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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507304">(Not Marvel's) Infinity War</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_L_Tetcher/pseuds/B_L_Tetcher'>B_L_Tetcher</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Avengers: Infinity War (MCU), Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 03:34:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>241,747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_L_Tetcher/pseuds/B_L_Tetcher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The following is an outgrowth of an interpretation of events in Guardians of the Galaxy 2 that grew into a story I very much wanted to tell.  I didn't start writing it until Black Panther (mainly in case they revealed the location of the Spirit Stone).  At that time, I had no idea that Captain Marvel or Wasp even existed, and the story would have required significant rewriting to add them in.  And Captain Marvel would probably have destroyed the story I was working on anyways.  So, despite how I enjoyed those movies and characters (Particularly Captain Marvel) they do not make an appearance here.</p><p>It took far longer than I thought, but I finally finished.  In the interest of purity, I waited until after I'd finished the rough draft before I watched either Infinity War or Endgame.  I'd like to give a shout out to all my friends who worked hard (the strain on their faces was immense sometimes) to not give away any spoilers about the events in those moves.  They were also known to give me a kick in the pants at some time.  (Personally, when I finally did see them, I was a bit disappointed, but I may be a tad biased.)</p><p>This story has nothing to do with anything after Black Panther.  I hope you enjoy it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. "I Feel Like Everything's Going to Work Out . . ."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>(Not Marvel’s) Infinity War</p><p>By: B. L. Tetcher</p><p> </p><p>Space near Asgard’s last known location</p><p> </p><p>“Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring <em>me</em> back to Earth?” Loki asked his brother pointedly.</p><p>“Probably not, to be honest,” the Brobdingnagian brother admitted from beside him.  “Oh, but I wouldn’t worry brother,” he added.   “I feel like everything’s going to work out.”</p><p>“You really are an optimist aren’t you, brother?” Loki replied with a slight grin.  His brother’s firm belief that ‘it would all work out’ never ceased to amaze him.  Other than that, going to Earth was no big deal.  He’d simply have to disguise himself . . . in perpetuity.  No issue there.  After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.  Perhaps this time he’d just make himself look like his brother.  There could be some fun in that.</p><p>“Um, hey guys,” Korg, the high pitched, passive aggressive rock monster they’d apparently adopted said, coming up from behind them.    “There’s a ship -actually quite a large ship- approaching.  A guy -he calls himself Cranos, or Lanos, or something- anyway this guy wants to talk to you.  Says you have something of his?”</p><p>“Oh no,” Loki muttered putting two and two together from that mishmash of sentences.</p><p>“What did you do,” Thor demanded, turning to his brother. </p><p>“In retrospect, it might have been wiser to let Hela rule Asgard,” Loki replied with a cocked head.</p><p>“What did you do,” Thor repeated putting ‘slightly’ more emphasis on every word.</p><p>“It’s not so much something I did recently as past sins come back to roost,” Loki failed to explain.  “It’s kind of funny that we were just discussing my exploits on Earth actually,”</p><p>“LOKI!” Thor yelled grabbing his brother by the lapels, as the massive ship came into view of the port behind him.  Or what they could see of it.  It was clearly a thousand feet away and still it filled the window.</p><p>“I believe the name Pebbles was looking for was Thanos,” Loki said.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s it,” Korg (aka Pebbles) replied amiably.   “Do you know him then?”</p><p>“I may have . . . leased one of his armies to try and conquer a certain planet on our heading,” Loki explained evenly as Thor’s blood started boiling.</p><p>“Oh, so that’s not good is it?” the mound of minerals asked.  Thor responded by glaring at the somewhat slow Cronan.  “Um, you know what,” he said getting the hint “this seems like kind of a family moment; maybe one of those brotherly bonding opportunities.  I think I’ll just go see about . . . being somewhere else, shall I?” Korg added as he pivoted back the way he’d come. </p><p>Thor returned his attention to his brother.  “What.  Does.  He. Want?” he demanded turning the pressure on his brother’s lapels up a crank. </p><p>“Well, I <em>was</em> supposed to deliver the tesseract to him,” Loki pointed out.</p><p>“The tesseract was in the vault,” Thor replied.</p><p>“Well, it was,” Loki replied sheepishly.</p><p>“You just had to take it, didn’t you?” Thor demanded before thrusting the thinner Asgardian into the wall in disgust.  “You just couldn’t leave it be.  Why should I be surprised?” he asked mostly himself as he started stalking away.  “Just once couldn’t you have not had to balance your good deeds?”</p><p>“What was I supposed to do?” Loki demanded, hurrying to keep up.</p><p>“You could have left it to be destroyed with Asgard,” Thor replied as if speaking to a small child.</p><p>“You can’t destroy an infinity stone brother,” Loki countered, bringing the bigger man up short.</p><p> “Right,” he said, as if he should have thought of that.  “Why didn’t Thanos come for it sooner?”</p><p>“Come now, you know he didn’t stand a chance against father on Asgard,” Loki replied.</p><p>“Father hasn’t been on Asgard for nearly a year,” Thor grated. </p><p>“Yes, but Thanos didn’t know that,” Loki pointed out.  “But now that Asgard is gone . . .”</p><p>“Yes, I know,” Thor said. “Get everyone out of the main chamber,” He added raising his voice to be heard over the general hum of conversation.  This of course only increased the ambient noise level.</p><p>“I’ll take care of it, majesty” their new Valkyrie friend said over the hubbub.  “Leave your things,” she said turning to the crowd.  “Take the nearest exit now!”</p><p> “They’ve docked with us,” Loki reported, increasing the thinning of the crowd.</p><p>“Yes, thank you for that,” Thor replied sarcastically as he picked up the pace.</p><p> “You’re welcome,” Loki said calmly as they joined the contingent set in a semicircle around the airlock.  It had taken quite a bit of damage in their last misadventure, but the containment fields seemed to be holding.  It was cycling anyways.  Besides Korg, there was the one-time gate keeper of Asgard Hiemdall (who was currently on the hunt for a new job), Brunnhilde the retired Valkyrie, Meik the Gladiatorial larval insect, the Hulk, and the two brothers.</p><p>“Do you think they’ll ask permission to board,” Korg asked from where he’d been monitoring the lock’s progress.</p><p>“I wouldn’t count on it,” Loki replied almost sounding nervous.  Beside him Thor’s face had hardened almost into granite.</p><p>“I wish I had my hammer,” he said for possibly the thousandth time in two days, as the compression cycle finished and the door began to open as if of its own accord.</p><p>“Again with this hammer,” Korg replied.  “Is it really that magnificent?” he asked Loki.</p><p>“You know what,” Loki replied ignoring the Cronan. “I wish you had your hammer too.”</p><p>“Ah, must be then,” Korg replied almost to himself as the door finished retracting into the ceiling, revealing a ten-foot-tall purple gorilla in golden armor.   Surrounding him were an assortment of smaller cybernetically enhanced members of every race they’d ever encountered.  “I’ll take care of this,” Korg said, stepping forward.  “Hello Thanos,” he started, talking to the nearest of the cybernetic individuals.  “My name’s Korg.  I’m made of rock as you can see, but don’t let that intimidated you.  I’m-” he said, getting almost through his traditional welcome speech before being interrupted by the purple gorilla.</p><p>“BE QUIET!” Thanos thundered as he pushed through the crowd, raised one massive fist, and pounded Korg into a shower of rocks.  Both brothers winced as they saw their new (if somewhat annoying) friend crushed.  Meik immediately charged forward to avenge his friend, but an outstretched hand from Thor stopped him.</p><p>In truth a large part of Thor demanded that he leap into action to avenge the Cronan.  But this was Thanos, and the entirety of his people were on this ship.  A quick survey of his allies showed that they would back him if he surrendered to that impulse, which was all the more reason not to in his mind.</p><p>“What do you want Thanos?” he said finally.</p><p>“The same as you Son of Odin,” the purple titan sneered “what’s owed me.”  He said that last glaring menacingly at Loki, who had to resist the temptation to step behind his brother.  He succeeded, mostly because he knew Thor would never let him live it down.  Never.</p><p>Thor looked a question at his brother who merely shrugged without quite making eye contact.  Thor’s eye slid past his brother to the passaged his people had retreated through.  The tesseract was of immense power.   He couldn’t just give it up.  But if he didn’t it was certain that more of his people would die.   Those people had been through enough strife for a decade.  They didn’t deserve this.</p><p>Besides, Thanos was already the most powerful being in the known universe, now that Odin had passed on.  How much worse could it get if he had the tesseract as well?</p><p>“Alright,” the god of thunder said looking back to the titan.  “Let our people go and I’ll give you the tesseract,” he said, hating himself for it.  There was more here than he knew.  He hadn’t even known the tesseract was an infinity stone until now.  How much more was he missing?</p><p>“Oh, I think you can do better than that,” Thanos replied staring pointedly at Loki.</p><p>“You’re not taking my brother,” Thor stated firmly.</p><p>“Yes, I am,” Thanos replied just as certainly, without ever taking his eyes off of the trickster.   “He has much to answer for.”</p><p>“I hardly think I can be blamed for the quality of your army,” Loki said pointedly, trying for suave.  Somehow, he came up short.</p><p>A situation not improved when Thanos took two steps towards the brothers, forcing them to look further up at him.  They both swallowed in unison.</p><p>“You’re not taking my brother,” Thor replied, slightly less firmly.</p><p>“Big words from a man who let his big sister break his toy hammer,” Thanos replied.  Thor’s jaw clenched involuntarily at the reminder.  “It’s too bad about Hela,” he continued.  “I always liked her.”</p><p>“You would,” Loki replied.  “She wasn’t exactly stable.”</p><p>“A viewpoint you will soon become intimately acquainted with,” Thanos replied menacingly. Thor spent his time more productively, searching in vain for some way out of this mess.</p><p>“He’ll destroy this ship and all aboard if we resist,” Heimdall stated from his other side.</p><p>“He’ll probably destroy the ship anyway,” Loki corrected.  This prompted a smile from the purple titan.</p><p>“You wouldn’t be saying that to encourage resistance, would you?” the gold pupiled seer replied without taking his eyes off of the intruders.</p><p>“And while we’re on the subject of failings,” Loki replied “how is it that you didn’t see this behemoth coming.  There’s no way his ship could have caught us if we’d known to run for it.”</p><p>Heimdall glared at Loki before turning back to the threat at hand.  “He seems to have some way to shroud himself from my vision,” the big man admitted finally.</p><p>“Enough,” Thor yelled at the both of them.  The fact that they could squabble in the vicinity of such danger was both endearing and infuriating.</p><p>“I agree,” Thanos replied stepping forward.  He backhanded Thor with one massive fist, sending the Asgardian flying across the bay into a bulkhead, and reached for Loki with his other massive fist.</p><p>Up until that moment the Hulk hadn’t been sure what to do.  This intruder seemed like a monster.  But Thor had just recently forbade him from killing one.  So, he’d simply watched as they talked.  It wasn’t like he was good for talking anyways.  But he knew what to do when the purple thing sent his friend flying; he jumped to it with a will.</p><p>Taking this as a cue, the rest of the . . . people, in the airlock advanced.  Loki, Heimdall, Brunnhilde, and Meik.  They held their own against the wave of cyborgs but there were just too few of them.  Meik was the first to fall, crushed by a massive metal foot.</p><p>Before Thanos could grab the more diminutive prince he was hit by a howling mass of green rage that sent him fumbling across the deck himself.  A slight not to be left unavenged, he turned back the way he’d come and glared at the advancing green beast.  It did not deter it.</p><p>Meanwhile Thor had managed to extricate himself from what could have at one time been called a bulkhead and launched himself at the remaining lackeys.</p><p>“We can’t beat Thanos,” Loki greeted him as he rejoined their ranks.</p><p>“I don’t know about that,” Thor said glancing to where the two titans were trading blows, and causing serious damage to the ship.  “It seems as though Hulk is doing just fine.”</p><p>“You are aware that we need this ship,” Loki replied pointedly as the green monster ripped a stanchion out of the wall and hitting his larger opponent with it.  “At the rate he’s going the ship will lose before either of them,” he added as he retrieved his dagger from his opponent’s abdomen just in time to dodge a wild swing from contestant number 5.  Or was it 6 at this point?</p><p>Thor jammed his fist in the eye of one of Thanos’s minions as he considered his reply.  He’d wanted to hit the bastard with a lighting blast, but nothing seemed to be happening when he tried.  He felt . . . drained.</p><p> As he opened his mouth to reply the titan yelled “Petulant child!” holding one opened hand in the charging Hulk’s direction.  The green brute’s progress halted suddenly as an invisible wall of force interposed itself between them.</p><p>The Hulk had an answer for that; as it happened it was his answer for everything . . . smash.  As he beat against the force, and the ground, and the bulkheads they could see that Thanos’s concentration was waning.</p><p>But the titan had his own answer for such predicaments.  So, just as the Hulk managed to smash through his mental barrier Thanos reached out and flicked him between the eyes with his middle finger, with such force that the green monster did a backflip before landing on his face, unconscious. </p><p>“Find the tesseract,” Thanos bellowed, stepping over the now shrinking form of his momentary adversary.  “I’ll deal with these two.”  The remaining of his host immediately disengaged (some to the detriment of their lives) themselves from the battle with Thor’s line and headed for the sealed bulkheads leading further into the ship.</p><p>“Keep them away from our people,” Thor commanded Brunnhilde and Heimdall.  Loki couldn’t help but flash a smirk at Thor’s optimism.  “This isn’t the time for that,” the blond Asgardian replied.</p><p>“Hit him with a lighting blast,” Loki suggested for the second time that day, pointing at the oncoming form. </p><p>“I’ve been trying,” Thor replied exasperatedly.  “It’s not working.”</p><p>“Poor little god of hammers,” Thanos smirked as he closed the distance.  Then he reached down impossibly fast and grabbed Thor by the torso in one giant maw of a hand.  Upon seeing this Loki . . . disappeared. </p><p>“Probably should have just let Hela have her throne, eh?” he added, bringing the god right up to his face.</p><p>“Blow yourself out the nearest black hole, you monstrous bully,” Thor snapped angrily.  “You’re nothing but a spoiled brat in a gorilla’s body,” he added, so angrily that minor arcs appeared in his hair.</p><p>“Hmmm,” Thanos said peering closer at him.  “Right color energy, but I’m afraid you’re not what I’m looking for.”  Then he tossed him over his shoulder at about sixty miles an hour.   “I know the god of lies will have what I need though,” he added, focusing on nothing in particular.  Then his massive hand darted for an open area and yanked Loki out of his cloaking field.  “You didn’t really think your pathetic illusions would work on <em>me</em>, did you?” he asked the adopted Asgardian. </p><p>“It was worth a shot,” Loki admitted, adding that disarming grin of his.</p><p>In response Thanos moved him closer to his face, close enough to smell his breath (which smelled incongruously of spice) and said “Give me the tesseract” in a voice somehow more menacing than Loki would have believed possible. </p><p>“Alright,” he said.  “I’ll bring you to it.”</p><p>“Yes, you will,” Thanos agreed, a grin spreading across his face, just as the beam the Hulk had used on him earlier intersected with his head and sent him flying into the one as yet undamaged bulkhead.  Fortunately, the shock forced him to drop Loki.</p><p>“You know he’s right,” Loki said as Thor helped him up.  “We never should have killed Hela.  Well, we never should have destroyed Asgard, anyway.”</p><p>“What does that have to do with anything?” Thor asked, turning to where Thanos was emerging from the hole his body had made in the bulkhead.</p><p>“You never did pay attention in school,” Loki chided him.</p><p>“Yes, I did,” Thor replied, swinging the beam at Thanos as he stepped on the deck.  It connected with a terrific crunch sending him sprawling down the cavernous room.  “When I could stay awake, anyways,” he added.</p><p>“See that’s exactly my point,” Loki said, continuing the old argument.</p><p>“Loki!” Thor yelled as Thanos got back to his feet.</p><p>“Fine, the point is we can’t beat him right now.”</p><p>“And what do you propose we do?”</p><p>“Give him the tesseract.”</p><p>“As soon as he has it, he’ll kill all of us,” Thor replied as Thanos advanced once again.</p><p>“Not necessarily brother,” Loki replied cryptically.  Thor spared a quick glance at his brother, his brow furrowing as he realized what he was suggesting.</p><p>“No, you are not,” he said, stopping to swing his new favorite club at Thanos’s head again.  It didn’t have the balance he was used to, and while weighty it lacked the force of Mjolnir.  But it seemed to be doing the job.</p><p>Until now he thought as Thanos caught the end, arresting its movement.  He then gripped the middle with his other hand and pivoted the bar, and suddenly it was their turn to be tossed down the monstrous room.  They tumbled over each other and the various wreckage from the early stages of the fight before finally coming to rest at the end.</p><p>“Do you have a better option?” Loki asked as they extricated themselves from the junk that had once been part of the hall.</p><p>“No, but you are not surrendering yourself to him,” Thor commanded.</p><p>“Brother,” Loki replied softly as Thanos began swaggering towards them “you’re the king now.  You don’t have the right to throw these people’s, our people’s, lives away for me.”</p><p>Thor shook his head.  “We’ll find another wa-” he said before abruptly stopping.  To be fair, it is hard to speak when a dagger has been jammed in one’s gut.</p><p>“You know, that never gets old,” Loki said with a grin.  Thor shook his head in dismay, but inside he was grinning too.  It was a weird brotherhood, but it worked for them.  “Get them out of here,” he added.  “And ask father about your lightning.”  Before Thor could respond he disappeared once again.  At the same moment one of the hatches to the upper deck opened.</p><p>“GET HIM!” he heard Thanos shout, quickening his pace.  Again, all of Thanos’s minions reacted to the new orders automatically, like automatons.  Thor looked around for something, anything, that he could use as a weapon.  His eyes fell on jagged piece of metal in a shape resembling a cross between a long sword and a machete a heartbeat before his hands, and he flowed towards the opened door to intercept them.</p><p> </p><p>Loki ran faster than he’d ever thought he could, careening down turns and corridors often as not.  He had to get to the Commodore and get away before Thanos or his demented children could reach him or he’d end up joining their ranks.  If he could make it, he should be safe.  The Commodore was supposed to be the fastest ship in the galaxy.  It was certainly fast enough to outrun Thanos’s lumbering display of overcompensation. </p><p>Unfortunately, the Commodore hadn’t had any airlocks, and the larger ship hadn’t had a bay to fit it.  So, they’d simply lashed it to the hull with magnetic grapples.  That posed a slight problem to boarding while underway.  Had he known they’d be fighting Thanos he might have suggested some other arrangement, like staying on Asgard.</p><p>But such ruminations were put on hold as he realized that his were not the only footfalls he was hearing.  Clearly, he’d overestimated his brother’s ability to block a door.  Either that or he’d underestimated the speed with which Thanos’s minions could run.  And judging from the metal on metal noises they were making, he really wasn’t sure which it was.</p><p>He slowed his pace as he spied the maintenance lock, half acting out of breath, and tried to judge how fast they were closing.  This was going to require precise timing.</p><p>Just as they were about to catch him, the lock opened itself to space.  The two goons found themselves helped along, right through the image of Loki they’d been chasing.  The real Loki appeared by the console, waving as they were launched into space.</p><p>Loki manifested an energy barrier around himself and exited the same way before safety systems could reclose the lock.  He managed to snag one of the rung shaped handholds on the exterior of the hatch.  Above him, one of the goons floated harmlessly.</p><p>The other one was a bit more adroit, having managed to catch a rung on the opposite side of the hatch.  It had once been a Centaurian, but that was much metal and limbs ago.  Now it was more attachment than flesh, which meant the vacuum environment was probably only irritating it.  Joy.  And it was directly between Loki and the Commodore.  He had to do something quickly.  His bubble didn’t exactly contain copious amounts of air, and his lungs had been burning from the run before he’d opened the hatch.</p><p>Before he could think of anything the remaining cyborg lunged at him.   Using his handhold as leverage, Loki kicked out at it, hoping to send it after its brother, or sister, or thing.  Instead it kicked back, leaving them both back where they’d started.</p><p>Holding his breath in prayer Loki lunged towards it at an angle leading away from the ship.  He was counting solely on its blind obedience to Thanos’s order to catch him, and probably low intellect.  If it didn’t take the bait, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.  At the rate he was going he had very little time left.</p><p>Loki had just begun to revise his estimate of its intellect upwards when it launched itself straight at him.  Score one for mindless obedience.  As it intersected him it grasped . . . nothing.  Loki released the illusion from where he was still holding on to the ship and pushed himself towards the Commodore, lungs burning like they’d been split by Serta’s sword.</p><p>He barely made it inside the golden vessel and hit the pressurize button before collapsing to his hands and knees.</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile Thor’s lungs were burning for a slightly different, though not unrelated, reason, as he was straining with all his considerable might to keep Thanos’s gigantic hand from crushing him.  He was holding Thanos’s ring finger in one fist and his thumb in another, trying to keep them from closing on him.  It was not going well.  But, before he failed completely, he managed to sidestep the closing hand entirely.</p><p>Banner had woken up shortly after Loki’s departure.  He’d taken one look at the ongoing battle and thrown himself at the purple titan hammering at his friend.   And been backhanded into a wall for his trouble. </p><p>But, even after the strike, the Hulk had failed to make a reappearance.  He couldn’t tell if Thanos had actually accomplished the unthinkable and killed Banner, or accomplished the even greater unthinkable and frightened the big green rage monster.  It seemed inconceivable, but if he hadn’t done one or the other, then where was the Hulk?  And how much longer could he hold out on his own?</p><p>The rest of that thought was chopped off as Thanos wrapped one of his meaty hands around Thor’s upper torso and slammed him into the ground.  Thor tried again to reach for the lightning he’d found so effective during the last moments of Asgard. Okay so it hadn’t been a hundred percent effective.  Odin how he wished he had his hammer.</p><p>“As stimulating as this is,” Thanos said with an evil grin “it doesn’t seem like your putting forth your best effort, Thor son of Odin.  Probably shouldn’t have destroyed the source of your power then.”  Thor gave him an uncomprehending look at that.  “You didn’t really think that the source of your family’s power rested in its people, did you?” he sneered in response.  “Even your father was never that bold.”</p><p>“You know nothing of my father,” Thor grunted, struggling futilely against the massive titan.</p><p>“I know more about him than you, you naïve little child,” Thanos said with a nasty grin.</p><p>“Go to Hel!” came the reply.</p><p>“After you, Son of Odin,” he replied as he lifted Thor off of the ground.  “Be sure to give my mistress my regards,” he added as his arm reached full extension above the ground.  His movement down was halted as a motion caught his eye.  In unison executioner and victim turned to see the Commodore streaking away from the ship through one of the viewports.</p><p>A moment later a vision of Loki appeared between the duo and that port.</p><p>“Well if it isn’t the visage of the other son of Odin,” Thanos replied calmly.  “Come to watch your brother die?” he asked as he started his downward stroke.</p><p>“I have the Tesseract,” Loke replied quickly.  “If you hurt any of my people, I will launch it into the Nosher Singularity.  You’ll never complete the Infinity Gauntlet.”  Thor grinned smugly at Thanos.  The Nosher was a medium sized black hole near Asgard.  Even Thanos would be unable to retrieve something lost within its perimeter.  “Return to your vessel with your servants and I’ll give it to you.”</p><p>“No, Loki-” Thor started before Thanos’s grip tightened, silencing him.</p><p>“Am I supposed to believe you won’t rid yourself of it once I’ve set your people free?” Thanos replied menacingly.</p><p>“No, of course not,” Loki replied, with that innocent grin of his.  “But at least this way you have a chance.”  He looked meaningfully at his brother, still in the titan’s grip.  “Clock’s ticking Thanos.”</p><p>“We’re leaving,” Thanos bellowed, causing his minions to pour out of the hatches and back into his ship.  They were quickly followed by Brunnhilde, Heimdall, and several other armed Asgardians.  “Do not think you’ve changed your fate Odinson,” Thanos grated, holding Thor inches from his face.  “Your time will come soon enough.”  With that he backhand threw Thor into a bulkhead as he turned back to his ship. </p><p>Most of his minions made it out before the door to Thanos’s ship shut.  Air immediately began gusting out of the widening gap between the two ships, sucking the three slower minions out into space.  The outer door closed automatically as the sensors detected the dropping air pressure, almost crushing the one of them.  Then the inner door closed, locking him in.  Until Brunnhilde opened the inner door once again.  She had a way with grudges. </p><p>Thor might have instructed her on the usefulness of interrogation, but he was busy staring out the window he’d last seen his brother departing.  “I never thought I’d say this, but he was right,” Heimdall stated, stepping up to his side.  “You cannot risk these people to save him.”</p><p>“What would you have me do?” Thor replied bitterly.</p><p>“Honor his choice . . . and perhaps, his sacrifice,” Heimdall replied bluntly.</p><p>It took many precious moments, but in the end, Thor sighed in agreement.  “Make for Earth, best possible speed,” he said loudly, forcibly turning himself from the viewport to where Brunnhilde was checking on Banner.  Despite all that had happened he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about Banner that drew all the really hot chicks.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Facades</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Unmapped Sector</p><p>Ravager Spaceship Rechristened ‘Vengeance’</p><p> </p><p> “They’ll be here within hours,” the insect-like humanoid on the screen said in a hushed voice; as if afraid beings hours away would hear him.</p><p>“How many?” the woman at the console asked.</p><p>“Seven,” came the reply.</p><p>“Activate the failsafe,” she ordered.</p><p>“We can’t,” the Agullan monk replied.  “Sensors indicate a cloaked ship hovering over the cloister.  If we launch it could be intercepted.”</p><p>This information was met with a growl from that informed.  She didn’t want to go there.  If anyone had found it, it was a certainty that Thanos wouldn’t be far behind.  And if he was on the way, she didn’t want to be in the same sector as that artifact. But, if he found it, everything she’d worked for was lost. </p><p>She looked down hesitantly at the course she’d set in her console, as those conflicting urges, the urge to flee and the urge save her only hope of ultimate safety, warred within her.  As if voicing its own opinion, her mind replayed one of her worst memories.  Something she considered to be in very poor taste.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>It was a tale she’d visited often enough in her sleep.  The details often changed, but the low points were the same.  She still had no idea what had brought Thanos down upon her family.  She’d been just a child when he attacked their estate and killed everyone minus her and her brother, Gaem.  That life now seemed utterly unreal, at best a dream, at worst a taunt about the terrible hand life had dealt her.</p><p>Afterwards they’d been taken aboard his mighty ship and ‘processed’.  They were separated, tagged, and informed that they would soon be paired with what Thanos sadistically called ‘friends’.  She was quick to discover that his idea of that word was as twisted as this world she’d been thrust into.</p><p>“You will each be the test of the other,” her first instructor explained with barely contained delight.  “You will compete for everything.  You will, of course compete at one point with all of Thanos’s children, but with your friend you will always compete, always struggle.  Losing will be punished.  Winning will be punished less.”</p><p>She remembered being terrified that they’d pair her with her older brother.  She could never have raised a hand against her longtime protector, the one who’d always provoked her father when he was intoxicated.</p><p>But in the end, she’d been paired with a young Zen-Whoberi girl named Gamora.  Punishments were as brutal as they were random.  Failing at any task, any lesson, could mean anything from a viscous beating, physical torture, psychic torture, loss of meals, extra work, etc.  The monsters controlling their lives seemed to have limitless ways of doling out anguish.  Nor was having been punished an acceptable excuse for failure.  Sometimes she’d been certain that the trainers deliberately chose the punishment most likely to induce failure in whatever tasks came next.</p><p>She and Gamora learned this quickly, and both did everything they could to avoid punishment.  As it turned out they were fairly well matched in scholastic matters.</p><p>Then Thanos began training them in combat and everything changed.  Nebula found that she had an aptitude for fighting, an ability to see any confrontation as if it were moves on a chessboard and choose the best action accordingly.  But despite this ability, she kept losing her bouts.  It was as if something held her back.  No matter how much she wanted to avoid punishment something just wouldn’t let her capitulate on the advantages her mind showed her. </p><p>At first, she’d thought maybe it was simply a stubborn refusal to do what her captors wanted, but she’d eventually come to the conclusion that there was something else, something deeper, going on.  No matter how much she was punished she just couldn’t get over that slight hesitation and she didn’t know why.</p><p>Thanos saw it too.  After yet another defeat he decided to ‘help’ her.  The bout was barely over when he pushed into the ring, seized her by the arm, and drug her out of the room. </p><p>“That streak of compassion of yours holds both of you back,” he told her as he marched her through the corridors.  “Let’s see what we can do about that.”</p><p>He placed her in a device that suspended her in the air.  Then she began to feel a pulling sensation on her left arm.  It continued to increase, until far past the point of simply causing pain, but she knew better than to cry out.  She strained against it, pulling with every muscle in her body.  She begged Thanos to stop, but it didn’t seem as if he even heard her. </p><p>Then she did scream, a howl of horror and pain as her left arm was ripped from her body.  She passed out from the pain, the thought that this terrible existence was finally over the last thing to go through her mind.</p><p>But it wasn’t the end.  She awoke to an even worse pain, as a metal arm was fused to her skeletal structure and skin.  Despite the proven consequences she screamed and cried, begging him to stop.  Again he was silent.  Then she was flung back into the tiny cell that served as a bedroom.  Of course, there was no bed to curl up on.  She had to make do with the floor.  She curled up into a ball and whimpered herself to sleep.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>It was far from her worst memory, but it served to illustrate all the reasons to avoid the risk of being captured by that madman again.  Warring with that was the thought of how powerful Thanos would become if he found that last stone; the shear amount of power he would control was terrifying.  There would be no escaping him then.</p><p> She took a reassuring breath.  “Give me a link to the satellite.  I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she said in a resigned voice.</p><p>“Thank you,” came the reply.  “I will inform the monks that the Blue Mistress is on the way.”</p><p>“I’ve told you not to call me that,” the bald woman replied bitterly, as she activated the link on her screen.  On it a group of seven were picking their way through the thick undergrowth surrounding her hiding place.  She recognized all of them immediately.  “Idiots,” she hissed, upper lip curling in disgust as she entered the new course on the console.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Eb Dunomisa</p><p>4<sup>th</sup> moon  of Ahl Agullo</p><p> “Can someone please explain why we’re following some weird cloaked guy through some unnamed forest?” the cybernetically enhanced raccoon like creature going by the name ‘Rocket’ asked.  He was four feet of fur, fangs, and angry . . . mostly angry.</p><p>“Because we couldn’t land the ship closer,” Drax The Destroyer said as if talking to a fairly slow child.  The six-foot four-inch mountain of blue flesh had only one conversational mode: blunt.  Generally blunt as in ‘the trauma leading to your death’.  He also had some aversion to shirts.  He refused to wear them even when traipsing through said jungle.</p><p>“Because,” Peter Quill said, trying <em>not</em> to sound like he was talking to a slow child “the weird cloaked guy has money.  You remember money right Rocket?  It’s the stuff that comes in handy for things like port fees, refueling costs, and last but not least, parts and equipment for when someone pisses off a couple of planets,” he said, that last rather pointedly.</p><p>“I am Groot,” the tree monster with them added.</p><p>“And Sys-Net,” the rather tall human agreed.</p><p>“Hey I only pissed off one planet,” the raccoon-thing reminded him.  “It’s not my fault that you’ve got daddy issues.  Besides,” he went on, cutting off whatever outburst was working its way out of Quill “I already gave you a brilliant plan to make loads more money than some creepy cloaked old guy would ever have.”</p><p>“Stealing the Shi’ar family’s crown jewels is not a brilliant plan!” Quill yelled exasperatedly.</p><p>“It was foolproof!” the raccoon replied.</p><p>“Would this be as foolproof as your plan to steal Anulax Batteries?” The sexy green woman in front of them asked pointedly.</p><p>“They’re called Duracell Batteries,” Drax corrected, earning an eye roll from all assembled.</p><p>“Hey, I got away with it didn’t I?” Rocket replied.</p><p>“You almost got us killed, and got my ship destroyed!” Quill pointed out.</p><p>“Yeah, well, anything’s better than being some creepy old dude’s babysitter,” he sulked.</p><p>“Are they always like this?” the cloaked individual asked the one member of the team currently abstaining from the fight.</p><p>“I wouldn’t know,” the antennaed Mantis replied softly.  “I have only just met them.”</p><p>“How much further?” Quill yelled from the back, interrupting whatever the cloaked figure was going to say.</p><p>“Not far,” he said, turning stiffly, as if dealing with neck problems.</p><p>“I am Groot” the four-and-a-half-foot tree monster that had been shambling along with them said again.</p><p>“Yeah, I know you had a raid with your clan, but this is important Groot,” Quill replied.</p><p>“I am Groot,” Groot replied sullenly.</p><p>“I don’t care about the Oxnyx Rifle, Groot!  It’s just a game!”</p><p>“And what’s with this guy,” Rocket continued.  “I don’t trust him.  I mean look at him.  He’s so creepy and weird, and have you seen his skin?  It’s pasty and . . . old.  It’s like-”</p><p>“Could you at least not insult him until <em>after</em> we’ve been paid?” Quill cut in, sounding more than a little irked.  “That’s all I ask.  Just keep your yapper shut for a little longer.  Please.”</p><p>“Fine, but I still say he’s weird,” Rocket grumbled.</p><p>Which, ironically, brought them to the top of the crest they were climbing.  The others had stopped and were looking down the other side at an ancient series of buildings.  The greens of the jungle they’d been marching through gave way to an orangish brown soiled valley dotted with green buildings.</p><p>“What is this?” Gamora, asked breathlessly.  The greenish stone buildings had a feeling of great age, despite the fact that they were all in very good condition.  They seemed to be organized in concentric circles.  At first the pattern seemed random, but there was some pattern that tugged at them; as if the algorithm that had created it were at the tips of their brains.</p><p>“This is the cloister of the monks of Taung Kalat,” the stranger told them.  “It is a place of rest, contemplation, and spiritual healing.”</p><p>“I thought you said it was abandoned,” Gamora said slowly, while casing the area.  It was a habit she’d never been able to break.  The stranger didn’t respond.</p><p>“What was it you wanted from them?” Quill asked, making a similar sweep of the area.</p><p>“A simple orange jewel,” he replied.</p><p>“No one traverses hundreds of light-years and alien jungles for a simple jewel,” Quill pointed out.</p><p>“It is one of a set,” the stranger explained, starting down the path to the monastery.  “My employer wishes to complete it.”</p><p>“How exactly are you planning to obtain it from them?” Gamora asked suspiciously as they followed.</p><p>“My employer has given me considerable room to bargain in this matter,” the hooded man explained as he continued picking his way down the path.</p><p>“Sounds like a good way to waste a lot of money to me,” Quill commented, mostly to himself, pausing to check out the emptied area.</p><p>“Hey, don’t insult the boss’s boss till we get paid,” Rocket said sarcastically as he passed him.  The rest of the trip down the fairly steep trail was passed in silence, as the group collectively wondered where the inhabitants were.   As they came closer, they could see buckets of water, simple gardening tools, and various other implements unattended.  It looked as if their keepers had dropped them and run; a most unusual response to visitors for a famed place of refuge and spiritual healing.</p><p>“Tell me this doesn’t bother you,” Gamora said under her breath.  She and Quill had slowly dropped to the back of the group, as the anticipated ambush consistently refused to resolve itself.</p><p>“Which part?” Quill asked in equal quiet “The empty monastery, the creepy jungle, or the annihilated planet rising behind us?”  Gamora glanced behind them to where Ahl Agullo had just cleared the horizon.  She didn’t know what had brought Thanos to the planet three years before.   It wasn’t for his children to demand such information.  And she hadn’t been there, as she’d already been on loan to Ronan at the time.  But whatever had brought the purple titan to the planet wasn’t important anymore.  All anyone knew was that the Agullans had not complied with his demands.  By the time he’d left, they’d gone from a technological society of 60 million intelligent (if ugly) humanoid insects, to a few thousand survivors of a horrific slaughter huddled together.  The monks here probably couldn’t have gone home at this point if they’d wanted to.</p><p>“The part with the previously unmentioned employer willing to throw away this much money for some orange stone.  It doesn’t make any sense.”</p><p>“Sounds like most collectors to me,” Quill countered as he continued to case the area.  “Let’s accumulate vast amounts of money just so we can waste it on sculptures and pictures just to one-up our friends.”</p><p>“And the fact that he didn’t tell us about this mysterious employer?  Or the fact that he led us to believe this monastery was abandoned?” she added.</p><p>“I don’t know Gamora,” Quill replied.  “My gut says we can trust him.  I mean look at him,” he added gesturing to hunched old man.  “I’m surprised he made it through the forest.”</p><p>“Unless it’s just an act,” Gamora argued.</p><p>“Look,” Quill said stopping to grab her shoulders and turn him towards him “if he’s not on the level we’ll just kill him.  Why would he have been willing to pay us so much to be his babysitters if he could handle this himself?”</p><p>“I-I guess so,” Gamora said uncertainly.  She shrugged his hands off her shoulders and continued on.  “Don’t let Rocket hear you call it babysitting,” she added.</p><p>“Too late,” the raccoon replied from further up the line.  Quill rolled his eyes, turning to follow.</p><p>He caught up to the rest of them where they’d stopped.  They’d arranged themselves in a huddle near the entrance to what appeared to be a completely random building.</p><p>“It is here,” their guide/ward said with finality.</p><p>“How can you tell?” Quill asked.  Everything looks the same to me.</p><p>“Agullan monasteries always follow certain patterns,” he explained.  “Prepare yourself,” he added, starting towards the looming entrance.  “The monks have assembled inside.”</p><p>“Now how could-” Rocket started, but the cloaked figure had already disappeared.</p><p>The rest of the group looked to Quill.  “Alright, it’s odd,” he admitted.  “But are we really going to turn back now?” he asked pointedly.  “Come on guys, we’re almost paid and rid of this guy.  Just . . . keep your eyes open.”  With one more glance at the others he pulled his energy pistols, set them to ice, and stepped inside.  The others shared one more glance before following suite.</p><p>There was no sign of the old man when they entered.  But there was only a single way to go.  The group moved down it cautiously.  The tunnel sloped downward, twisting this way and that.  The green stone of the building walls quickly conceded to the same orangish sediment they saw above.  The cave walls themselves seemed to be glowing faintly, though none of them knew why.</p><p>“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Rocket said.</p><p>Gamora whipped around.  “I’ve asked you never to say that,” she hissed, just as a six-foot bipedal insect slammed into Quill.  It lumbered along on two massive limbs, leaving four manipulator arms to attack Quill with.  His guns went clattering to the ground as he wrestled with the heavier being.  The group started to move to help, but found themselves surrounded by like beings.</p><p>“Ahaaahaha!” Drax yelled, charging into the group with a glint in his eyes.  The group gave a couple steps in surprise at his direct assault.  It was clearly not what they’d been expecting.</p><p>“You know what, Quill?” Rocket asked as he activated one of his expanding rifles.  “You were right.  This <em>is</em> more fun than robbing some crown jewels and having time to do our raids.  And with that he began shooting anything that moved.  Honestly it was a surprise that he didn’t hit an ally the way he was plowing through ammo.</p><p>“Yeah but they don’t have online gaming in Shi’ar prisons either,” Quill grunted as the insect rolled on top of him and gripped his neck.</p><p>Gamora pulled her sword and beheaded the Agullan with an upstroke before it could strangle Quill.  “Why are they attacking us?” she asked as she helped him to his feet.</p><p>“I didn’t get a chance to ask,” Quill quipped as he snagged one of his guns just in time to shoot one of the insectoids before it could sneak up on her.  “Maybe having your dad wipe out most of their species has rendered them somewhat xenophobic.”</p><p>“He’s not my father,” Gamora growled as she beheaded two more with one stroke.  Quill shot his way over to his other pistol.</p><p>“We should talk to them,” Mantis yelled from the corner she was hiding in.</p><p>“They don’t seem interested in talking,” Quill asked as he grabbed his second pistol from the dirt.  He barely had time to pick it up before rolling out of the way of another of the insectoids.  It tripped on his legs taking a header into the wall. </p><p>“Peter!” Gamora barked as he aimed at the failed projectile.</p><p>He glanced back as it righted itself.  “Seriously?” he asked in disbelief.  True, they’d cleared the insects in this corner, but there was still nearly a half dozen of them fighting Drax.  Correction: Nine left.</p><p>Gamora returned Quill’s glance with a stern look.  He considered ignoring it and just finishing the thing off.  It had picked itself up, but it wasn’t moving, which compounded the issue.  His head bobbled back and forth like a scale as he weighed his options.</p><p>Cursing the luck that had made him the face of the group, he stepped directly into Rocket’s line of fire and held his guns up with his palms out.  Gamora backed up as well, sword at the ready.  “We mean you know harm,” he said loudly over Rocket’s grumbling.</p><p> Rocket’s loud demands that Quill get out of the way acted as something of a counterpoint to that statement.  Still, even with that hit to his credibility, he might have succeeded if Drax hadn’t picked that moment to start using one of the aliens as a flail against its comrades . . . laughing gleefully with every swing.  Needless to say, the overture was not taken seriously. </p><p>The alien launched itself from the wall at Quill, claws curved like nasty looking ice cream scoopers.  Rolling his eyes Quill opened fire again.  The fight ended with the last surviving of the insectoid monks with its back to the wall, surrounded by the guardians.</p><p>“We don’t want to hurt anyone,” he said, trying again.  The insect glanced meaningfully at its fallen comrades.  “We didn’t want to hurt anyone,” Peter revised quickly.  “Why did you attack us?”</p><p>“We know Thanos sent you,” it clacked menacingly.</p><p>“We don’t work for Thanos,” Gamora stated, putting her sword away and moving to stand next to Quill.</p><p>“Lies,” it clacked again.</p><p>“Yeah, you’re probably not the best person to try and convince it of that,” Peter said pointedly, giving her a sidelong look.  She returned a much darker version of it.</p><p>“Look,” Quill said “we were hired to protect him while he tried to buy some antique.  That’s all.”</p><p>“But,” it said looking back and forth between the two “he said . . . who are you?”</p><p>“We’re the Guardians of The Galaxy,” Quill told him.</p><p>“I don’t know this name,” the alien replied.</p><p>“Dude, you gotta get out more,” Rocket butted in.</p><p>“It has not been easy since the destruction of my home planet,” it replied dryly.</p><p>“Rocket, shut up,” Quill demanded before turning back to their captive.  “Does the name Star Lord mean anything to you?” he asked.  It shook its head in the universal symbol of ‘no’, causing an intense expression of frustration to flicker across the human’s face.</p><p>“Drax the Destroyer?” Drax asked.  Again, it shook its head.</p><p>“Rocket the Mercenary?” the raccoon thing piped up.  Another headshake.</p><p>“The old man?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“Pretty sure your name’s Gamora, Gamora,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“No,” she protested.  “You said <em>he</em> warned you,” she said, pinning the alien wither her gaze.  “Who was ‘he’?”</p><p>“The one that preceded you,” it said.  “I know nothing else of him.”</p><p>“Was he an old man with grey skin?” Peter asked, catching on to where she was going.”</p><p>It shook its head again.  “I have trouble determining age with exoderms,” it stated.  “But his skin was pure white.”</p><p>“This is getting us nowhere,” Peter said to Gamora.  “We need to find our wayward money bag before something happens to him.”</p><p>The alien looked between him and Gamora in confusion.  “I recognize that word, but I wasn’t aware you gave your wallets gender.”</p><p>“You have no idea,” Quill replied offhandedly.  “When I was sixteen, I had this one wallet with a picture of-”</p><p>“He means the old man that hired us to protect him,” Gamora cut in, flashing a glare at Peter.</p><p>“I do apologize,” a hunched figure said from almost directly behind them.  Needless to say, the group whipped around faster than a tornado.  The only things held in a tighter grip than their weapons were their sphincters.  “When I saw the monks prepared to fight, I decided I could best serve you by staying out of the way,” he added, completely nonplussed by the weaponry bristling at him.</p><p>“Yeah and while we’re apologizing why don’t you explain why these supposedly peaceful monks attacked us on site,” Rocket demanded.  “Not that I mind killing ‘em,” he added.</p><p>The old man looked at the raccoon, then to each of the others as if gauging his options.  Then his shoulders slumped slightly as he made a decision.  “I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” he said with a sigh.”</p><p>“No really?” Rocket replied glaring meaningfully at Quill.</p><p>“Rocket,” Gamora snapped quietly, attempting to shush the excitable creature.</p><p>“What?” Rocket snapped back.  “How many times did I tell you he couldn’t be trusted?  And none of you listened to me, did you?  Oh,” he continued in a poor approximation of Quill “my gut says we can trust him.”</p><p>“I am Groot,” the tree monster replied supportively.</p><p>“My point exactly,” Rocket answered.  “None of you ever listens to me!”</p><p>“This isn’t helping,” Drax said calmly.  Despite the dire nature of events, despite their tenuous parley, despite the truism waiting to be revealed, everyone turned to stare openly at the berserker; quite a few of the starees had considerable slack in their jaws.</p><p>“What?” the object of their shock asked with a slight shrug of the shoulders.  “I want to hear what he has to say.</p><p>“I am Groot,” the plant monster replied.</p><p>“Yeah this is definitely the weirdest day I’ve ever had,” Quill agreed before turning back to the old man.  “Alright spill,” he demanded.</p><p>Before speaking, that commanded looked between each of them again, no doubt wondering how such a clearly chaotic group had remained cohesive at all.  He decided to table that thought for later.  “What I seek is not some simple lump of amber,” he explained slowly.  “It is a gem of amazing power over the spirit.”</p><p>“The soul stone?” Gamora gasped.</p><p>He nodded.  “It has been hidden here, safe from Thanos, for many years.  But this location has been compromised.  He is on his way,” he added.  Gamora paled noticeably at that little revelation.  “I must obtain it any way I can and move it somewhere where it will be safe.”</p><p>“Who’s your employer?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“My contract specifies non-disclosure in that-” he started, but halted as she stepped forward and laid her sword across his neck.  Just for complete overkill the rest of the group pointed their various weapons at him.  He couldn’t help but glance, wide eyed, at the arrayed weapons.  “The Collector,” he blurted quickly.</p><p>Quill and Gamora glanced at each other, and backed off by mutual agreement.  They could hardly blame him for attempting to apply the very same solution to the issue that they’d attempted not so long ago.  Everyone else lowered their weapons a half second later. </p><p>“You realize this is the last infinity stone right?” she asked him.  “If Thanos ever learns that your employer has it then nothing will stop him.”</p><p>“The-my employer has taken adequate precautions in that respect,” the old man said.  “He’s already hidden the aether successfully for more than a year.”</p><p>“And you want to give him another one?!” Gamora asked incredulously.  “Why not just give him all six?  Make it a one stop shop for the end of the universe.”</p><p>“As opposed to this never-ending shell game?” the old man replied.</p><p>“Wait, back up,” Quill cut in.  “Granted that the stones are really powerful, but Thanos is already the most powerful creature in the galaxy.  So, what if he gets the stones?”</p><p>“Did you grow up under a rock or something?” Rocket asked.</p><p>“No, I grew up prisoner to Ravagers as I recall,” Quill pointed out.</p><p>“Thanos wants to complete the Infinity Gauntlet,” Gamora explained.  “When combined with the six Infinity Stones it could destroy the entire universe.”</p><p>“Why would he do that?” Quill asked.  “Isn’t that where he keeps all of <em>his</em> stuff?”</p><p>“He wouldn’t,” Rocket replied.  “But he would use it to kill half of the galaxy’s inhabitants all at once.”</p><p>“What the hell for?” Quill asked.</p><p>“He’s been trying to impress Death for as long as I’ve known him,” Gamora explained.</p><p>“Wait, Death?” Quill asked.</p><p>“You don’t know who death is either?” Rocket asked incredulously.  “Remind me to give the Ravager educational system a bad rating when we get back.”</p><p>“I know who Death is,” Quill replied defensively.  “He’s a creepy old skeleton, wears a black robe, has a scythe.”</p><p>“She,” Gamora corrected.</p><p>“Really?” Quill asked.  “Well, I guess a skeleton’s a skeleton.  Still seems to be an odd fetish.”</p><p>“She doesn’t always look like that,” Gamora replied.  “In fact, I think you’d classify her as . . . hot,” she added.</p><p>“So, to recap,” Quill said “we are trying to keep him from getting all the stones so he can’t complete this gauntlet thing, to kill half the creatures in the galaxy, to make it with Death?”</p><p>“And we are running out of time,” the old man replied pointedly.</p><p>“Then lead the way,” Quill replied with a wave further down the tunnel.</p><p>“You cannot,” their prisoner stated.</p><p>“You will be compensated,” the old man replied.</p><p>“It is not ours to sell, nor yours to take,” it replied.</p><p>“You’d rather Thanos got it?” Gamora replied incredulously.</p><p>“The Blue Mistress will retrieve the stone,” it replied with certainty.</p><p>“The who?” Rocket asked.</p><p>“She is on her way,” it didn’t quite explain.</p><p>“That wasn’t the question,” Gamora pointed out, taking a menacing step towards it.</p><p>It eyed her momentarily.  “We don’t know who she is.  She came to us after Thanos had razed Ahl Agullo.  She gave us the materials for self-sufficiency.  In return she asked that we hide the stone.”</p><p>“Tell you what,” Quill replied “if your mistress shows up before we get to the stone, she can have it.”  This drew looks of various intensity from the others.  “What?  What are the odds she’ll be here in the next fifteen minutes?” he asked, half turning to them defensively.  At that moment the creature attacked.  It pushed off the wall they’d backed it onto and threw itself at him.  It was met with the butt of Quill’s left blaster.  It fell, unconscious to the floor.  “Tie it up quickly,” he ordered.</p><p>When the deed was done, they resumed their trek downwards, with the old man leading, Quill and Gamora bringing up the rear.  The further they went the faster the old man seemed to lead them, like a kid dragging his parents through a toy store to that one coveted treasure.  Gamora became more restive at roughly the same pace.  Twice she looked as if she were about to speak before thinking better of it.  Finally, Quill broke the silence.</p><p>“Something’s bothering you,” he asked.</p><p>“I don’t know,” she replied uncertainly.  “It’s just . . . this blue mistress of theirs.”</p><p>“Plenty of blue bigendered species out there,” Quill pointed out.</p><p>“Maybe,” Gamora said uncertainly “but Nebula’s last mission before Thanos lent us to Ronan was to track down the Spirit Stone.  When she returned empty handed, he was furious.</p><p>“You don’t really think <em>she’s</em> their blue mistress, do you,” he asked, unconvinced.  Gamora just looked at him.  “Come on,” he argued.  “It’s not exactly the Indigo Psycho’s modus operandi.”</p><p>“Don’t call her that,” Gamora snapped.</p><p>“Look,” he said apologetically “I know she’s your sister but she’s not exactly the do-gooder type; more the crazy, psychotic, rip your heart out of your chest, revenge type.”</p><p>Before Gamora could respond the tunnel wound into a large chamber.  It had pillars made of more green rock reaching up to the ceiling over a hundred feet overhead.  The orange soil was dotted with green and blue vines and undergrowth.  The massive chamber looked ancient.  Many of the walls and pillars seemed to have collapsed over time creating a maze of rubble. </p><p>From their vantage point they could see other entrances feeding into the chamber, spaced evenly around its diameter.  Some ended on ledges above their location.  In the center was a massive six-armed statue of an Agullan with gems for eyes.  Most of them were the traditional colors of an Agullan’s eyes, but one was distinctly orange.</p><p>“This way,” the old man said, quickening his pace still further.  “If we hurry-” he started before being rudely interrupted by a stun stick that close lined him from the opposite side of one of the pillars.  Before they could do much other than skid to a stop Nebula stepped out from behind the pillar she’d been hiding behind.  She flipped the stun stick in her other hand to an ice pick grip and stabbed down at their prone charge without hesitation.</p><p>Somehow the old man managed to roll out from under the strike.  He aimed a kick at her torso as the motion brought him around.  She sidestepped it easily.</p><p>“Nebula what are you doing?” Gamora yelled as the guardians ran to save their payday. </p><p>“She’s here to retrieve the stone for Thanos!” the old man yelled as he scooted away from her.</p><p>Her only response to this accusation was a snarl as she lunged at the old man again.  He rolled to the right from the pillar he’d backed up against, but she’d clearly anticipated that.  The stun stick in her left hand met him half way, discharging itself directly into his forehead.  He slumped to the ground.  It was unclear if he was dead or unconscious.</p><p>But what was clear was that Nebula was going to make sure; again, the reversed stun stick plunged downward towards her target.  Before it could connect Gamora’s sword flashed up, deflecting her coup de grace.</p><p>“Stop this,” she yelled again as Drax came up behind Nebula and gripped her wrists.  He squeezed until Nebula let the stun wands fall to the ground. Nebula glared at Gamora. </p><p> “How could you be so stupid, sister?” she demanded.  As their minds composed an appropriate response, she rammed her head directly into Drax’s nose.  As he screamed in pain, she slammed her foot into his instep.  When his grip lessened, she reached up behind his head and rolled the big man forward directly on top of Quill.  She then launched herself into the air with both feet in a flat spin.  Just as Drax cleared the space between them her foot snapped out, catching Gamora’s sword arm.  The impact sent the sword flying.  At the same time, she reached down with both hands, grabbed the dropped stun sticks, curled into a ball, and landed on crouched legs.</p><p>“No crazy cyborg is keeping me from getting paid,” Rocket yelled, opening up on her with his gun.  She dove to the side, behind a pile of rubble, dragging Gamora with her.  As soon as they were out of the line of fire, she hammered Gamora with her metal hand and pushed herself off of the rubble, disappearing around the pile.  Gamora got up just as Rocket flew around the corner, leveling his gun in her direction.</p><p>“Where’d she go?” he demanded, pulling the weapon away from Gamora.  Gamora nodded in the direction she’d last seen her sister.  Rocket immediately headed that direction, but was stopped as Gamora grabbed him.</p><p>“Wait,” she explained.  “She wants us to follow her.”</p><p>By this point Quill had managed to extricate himself from under the blue berserker.  “I’ll find her,” he said hitting his jet boots.  He boosted up forty feet and began to scan the area.  It was pockmarked with pillars, piles of rubble, and various bits of undergrowth.</p><p>As he passed a pillar Nebula stepped out from behind it and hurled one of her stun wands directly into the jet aperture on his right boot, causing an explosion.  Quill’s reconnaissance flight became a reconnaissance crash.  He managed to compromise, making a hard landing a hundred feet from the pillar Nebula had stepped out from.</p><p>Gamora, Drax, and Rocket charged over to the opening the missile had come from, but found only Quill struggling to stand back up while holding onto both pistols.  No Nebula.  No errant stun stick.</p><p>“There!” Gamora yelled pointing further down the dome as a blue figure disappeared behind rubble. </p><p>“No, wait!” Gamora cautioned them again.</p><p>“Yeah I know, she wants us to follow,” Quill said.  “But what are the options?  Wait in this maze for her to sneak attack us again?  Quit, and forget about getting the stone to safety, to say nothing about getting paid?”  Gamora hesitated before nodding agreement.</p><p>“Keep your eyes open,” Quill ordered.  “Knowing it’s a trap is sometimes enough to avoid it.”  And off they went again.</p><p>Meanwhile Mantis was trying to revive their employer.  Fortunately, it appeared he’d only been knocked out when Nebula slammed her stun stick into his forehead.  Realizing he’d live, she dragged him to some rubble and propped him up.  She’d barely finished this task when he started coming to.</p><p>He opened his eyes, looking frantically back and forth.  “What happened?” he asked as his search stopped on her.</p><p>“You were hit with a stun stick,” Mantis explained calmly.  “You will be alright,” she added touching his hand as if for support.  A shudder rippled through her as the touch opened an empathic connection between them.  Then she jerked her hand off of his and backed away.</p><p>“I would have preferred if you hadn’t done that,” the old man said, rising smoothly from where he’d been sitting.</p><p>“What are you?” Mantis whispered in terror.</p><p>As if in answer he closed the distance between them in one massive lunge, placing his outstretched hand on her forehead.  She immediately screamed the screams of the damned before passing out where she stood.  As he turned towards the center of the maze, he left her, whimpering, behind him.</p><p>“Did you hear that?” Drax asked, stopping the quartet’s hunt.</p><p>“It sounded like a scream,” Nebula said listening for anything further.  But there were no follow up sounds.</p><p>“It was Mantis,” Rocket said with a shrug before resuming the hunt.  The other three looked at each other.</p><p>“I’d better go check on her,” Drax said.</p><p>“We’ll keep on Nebula’s tail,” Quill agreed.</p><p>Meanwhile the old man moved quickly, always scanning for any of the others currently playing hide and seek in this massive shrine.  He could hear the faint noises of hurried steps and shouts coming from the other side of the cavern.  They were moving away from the center, leaving his trip to the statue unimpeded.</p><p>But alas, such opportunities weren’t meant to last.  Just as he crossed the circle of topped pillars surrounding the massive statue, Drax pounded into view.  He skidded to a stop, as if surprised to find the old man here alone.</p><p>“I heard Mantis scream.  Where is she?” he demanded.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” the old man replied “I’m bad with names.  Which one of you is Mantis?”</p><p>“The ugly bug-eyed lady with the antenna,” Drax explained impatiently.</p><p>“Ah,” he said thinking quickly.  “She is unconscious back where we entered.”</p><p>“What happened?” Drax asked, taking a menacing step closer.</p><p>As she revived me the Luphoid attacked us again.  She was stunned, but I managed to get away.”</p><p>“And you just left her?” Drax shouted in disbelief.</p><p>“She will be fine,” the man assured him.  “Nebula is after me after all.  She was quite brave actually.”</p><p>“I should go check on her,” Drax said uncertainly.  He couldn’t place it, but there was something off about this old man.  Something . . . different from what they’d seen before.  Something that made him uneasy about the idea of letting him out of his sight.</p><p>“That might be best,” the old man calmly.  “Please convey my apologies for abandoning her.  But this is a matter of extreme importance.”</p><p>Suddenly Drax wished Peter or Rocket had doubled back for Mantis.  Either of them could probably have nailed down this feeling.  They would know the right questions to ask.  He was just good at smashing things.  And he wasn’t at all sure this was the time for that.</p><p>But he was the one here, so he had to try.  But how?  Then he remembered the eyes of the statue.  “Is that the stone you are after?” he asked, using the knife in his left hand as a pointer.</p><p>“I . . . yes I think that’s the stone,” the old man guessed.</p><p>“I’ll help you get it,” Drax offered.  “Then we’ll go get Mantis.”</p><p>“That’s really not necessary,” the old man said quickly.</p><p>“It will only take a second,” Drax replied.  He jogged quickly over to the statue and began ascending its uneven shape.  The old man followed at a more sedate pace, trying to figure out how to get rid of this blue behemoth.  He’d been too far away to reprise his approach with Mantis, and he had doubts about how well it would have worked with such a simple and stubborn person anyways.</p><p>“You must be careful not to damage it,” he protested.</p><p>“You can’t damage infinity stones,” Drax said in a tone that suggested that ‘everyone knows that’.  Now he was standing on the statue’s massive shoulder, edging towards the head.  In another moment he’d be prying the stone out of its socket.  That would definitely be a not good situation.  It would certainly create a lot of havoc and chaos, but this group seemed to thrive in such environs.  He preferred a more orderly, controlled setup.  </p><p>And time was running out.  Nebula was bound to show up any minute.  He had to keep these imbeciles from getting the stone.  Even getting the fake stone would be not good for him.  If they got the real stone it would be . . . very not good.  So, he decided on the truth; most of it anyway.</p><p>“Wait,” he called out to Drax just as he was lifting his knife to the orange gem.  “That’s not the Mind Stone,” he explained.  “Please come away from that before you kill us all.</p><p>“You said it was,” Drax protested.</p><p>“Yes, and I’m sorry,” the old man said apologetically.  “I almost forgot that Agullan shrines often feature a protector, with traps to kill trespassers.”</p><p>Drax glared at him, gave the stone one last look, and slid down the statue’s front.  “It is a good thing you remembered that,” he said approaching the old man with his daggers held at the ready.  Again, the old man considered a reprise of previous tactics.  But the thought of having his hand impaled by those nasty looking daggers was less than appealing.</p><p>“Yes, it is,” he agreed “I . . . did you hear that?” he asked cocking his head.</p><p>“Hear what?” Drax asked looking that direction.</p><p>“I hear your friend,” the old man said.  “It sounds like she’s begging for help.  Do you hear it?”</p><p>Drax listened to the silence for a moment, then took off in the direction of their entrance.  “Mantis I’m coming!” he yelled.</p><p>The old man smiled to himself and turned back to the puzzle at hand.  He hadn’t been lying about the trick gem in its eye.  And as much fun as watching a four-story tall statue attack the Guardians was, he just couldn’t risk it. Not yet.</p><p>The statue was of an Agullan on bent knee.  It had a short sword in each hand, angled so that their tips almost touched the dirt at opposite ends of the circle.  In this case the word ‘short’ was a bit of a misnomer. </p><p>As he studied the swords, he realized that they were held wrong.  Every statue with a sword held the weapon with the flat facing out and the edge down.  Two of these had the flat of the sword facing up and the edge facing in.  Agullans also rarely used circles.  Circles meant something different in their culture, something far more literal.</p><p>He walked quickly to the nearer sword and grasped the hilt with both hands.  One significant tug and the entire blade rotated ninety degrees.  He repeated that process with the other blade which caused a pedestal to rise from the direct center of the circle.  The center of the pedestal’s lid rotated one hundred and eighty degrees revealing a carved hand gripping an orange gem.  The light coming from inside it seemed to change sources constantly, creating a hypnotic effect.</p><p>He approached the stone with an almost holy reverence, but as he reached out to grasp it a small object flew from the edge of the circle and launched it into the air.  A look of intense irritation crossed his face as he looked up to see Nebula stomping towards him.</p><p>“I know you don’t want to do this,” he told her calmly.  She kept coming.  “I know how lonely you’ve been,” he added, bringing her up short.  “You don’t have to be,” he told her.  “He wants you back.  Help me, and all will be forgiven.  You know that’s what you really want; to be part of us again.”</p><p>Her upper lip flicked in disgust at that.  “Your sick games don’t work on me, Maw,” she spat as she renewed her advance towards him, remaining stun stick in her left hand.</p><p>“He was worried about that,” the old man agreed, still calmly.  “That’s why he gave me this,” he added pulling a small amulet barely larger than the button on it from his neck.  He pressed the button.  Nebula emitted a yelp of pain that turned quickly to a growl of anger, and collapsed to one knee.  The pain that seared through her entire body was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.  It was as if sharded lava were coursing through her veins.</p><p>Still, pain was nothing new to her.  She’d known many flavors, durations, and intensities over the years.  This was a new one, but it was nothing she couldn’t adjust to.  Steeling herself she opened her eyes, just in time to see his boot heading for her head.  She parried the kick with her right hand and retaliated with the stun stick. </p><p>But, whether due to the waves of anguish flowing through her or the anger at the one who’d caused it, she put too much force into the blow.   Her adversary stepped easily aside and allowed her to trip over his extended leg.  She tumbled to the other side of the pedestal, standing quickly.  She cursed him under her breath as she vowed not to let that trick work a second time.  For one moment they stared at each other.</p><p>Then she moved to attack again.  The old man gave ground, parrying the blows he could not evade.  The speed with which she’d adjusted took him by surprise.  He knew he wasn’t in her league.  Eventually, even with the distraction of the pain she would connect. </p><p>But there was another way.  Unfortunately, it required him to use the amulet that was now swinging wildly from his neck as he worked to keep from getting his chest crushed in.  Nebula pressed her advantage, backing against one of the statue’s swords.  He tried for the pendant again, but Nebula slapped his hands away with her off hand.  He was pretty sure that the only thing saving him was that half of her attacks seemed to be focused on getting the pendulum.</p><p>He ended up taking a few punishing blows from her before managing to slip a slightly wide attack.   Their positions reversed, with her flanked between him and the stone blade.  In one smooth motion he took a step back, caught the swinging amulet and depressed the button again.</p><p>This time Nebula gasped as all the extra pain her augment had been sending her cut off suddenly.  He took advantage of that momentary stun by kicking her up against the blade.  She groaned as the kick connected.  Somehow the very lack of pain seemed to amplify the pain of his blow. </p><p>“I will kill you Maw,” she vowed, glaring at him.  In response he held the button up gloatingly.  But before he could press it again Quill dashed around the corner, with Rocket and Gamora right behind him. </p><p>“Please help me,” he said in a suddenly quivering voice.  He shrank away from her as if terrified.  “You can’t let her have the stone.  She’d give it to Thanos.”</p><p>They weren’t sure what to think of that.  Something certainly seemed fishy about this old man standing over her kneeling form.  It was clear he’d held his own for some time.  But underneath that suspicion there was this tiny voice in their heads insisting that he was telling the truth. </p><p>He used that tiny moment of indecision to pass by Gamora in the center of their half arc.  “It is good you got here when you did,” he gushed gratefully.  “I don’t know how much longer I could have survived,” he added truthfully.</p><p>Quill stared at him for a moment.   “Once Gamora realized Nebula had been deliberately leading us to the edge of the cave we knew she’d double back here,” he explained.</p><p>“You <em>must</em> stop her,” Maw insisted.  He used their focus on Nebula to cover scanning for the new location of the stone.</p><p>Gamora nodded and stepped forward, sword ready.  “How could you betray us like this sister?” she asked sounding hurt.</p><p>“How could you be such a fool?” Nebula hissed back.  Gamora frowned in confusion and opened her mouth, no doubt to ask what she meant.  That’s when Nebula hurled her remaining stun stick at her.</p><p>Gamora dodged it reflexively.  As she dodged the projectile, she turned to see that she hadn’t been the intended target.  Behind her the old man was looking up at the face of the statue as if oblivious to everything else going on.</p><p>He was certainly unaware of the stun stick which impacted him at the base of the throat.  He gurgled something as the holo-generator hidden beneath his collar shorted out.  Gamora watched in horror as the visage of a pasty wise old man was replaced with one she knew very well.  He had white skin; not Peter Quill Caucasian white skin, eggshell white skin.  His eyes were glowing blue with no whites.  His hair was whiter than his face.</p><p>“Ebony Maw,” Gamora breathed in mingled disgust and fear.  That worthy grinned the most sadistic grin those who didn’t know him had ever seen, and then suddenly wasn’t there anymore.  “Stop him!” Gamora snapped.</p><p>“Where the hell did he go?” Quill shouted.</p><p>“There!” Rocket said pointing his gun at the face of the statue.  And sure, enough there he was standing on the statue’s shoulder and removing the orange gem from its face. </p><p>The two of them opened fire immediately.  At the same moment he held his hand out with a small device in it.  A disc shaped shield interposed itself between him and the projectiles.  They ceased fire by unspoken agreement.</p><p>“Spread out,” Gamora ordered before running to the statue and beginning to scale it with a massive vertical leap.</p><p>“Let me illustrate your situation for you,” Quill called up to him as he and Rocket spread out.</p><p>“Please do,” he replied amenably.  It was quite unnerving.</p><p>“You are surrounded by enemies,” Quill explained.  “The best teleportation device on the market needs at least another three minutes to recharge.  You’re shield will not hold out that long.  And lastly, even if it does Gamora is behind you.”</p><p>“Interesting points,” he replied, still completely nonplussed.</p><p>“So, I <em>suggest</em>,” Quill continued “that you toss down that rock.  In exchange we won’t kill you.”</p><p>“And the credits you promised us,” Rocket added in.</p><p>“A truly generous offer,” Maw replied in a tone that made it impossible to tell if he was being sarcastic.  “And you certainly do deserve some compensation for your troubles,” he added as he dropped the shield emitter in the right pocket of his robe.  He pulled the Spirit Stone out of his left pocket and regarded it.  Then with a shrug he made to toss it down, but slipped. </p><p>His right hand streaked out to grab the orange gem being used as an eye to stabilize himself.  It was such a natural reaction that only Gamora suspected anything of it initially.  As she repositioned herself to chop his head off, he grinned that evil grin and vanished again.</p><p>“What?” Rocket demanded.  “I thought you said three minutes,” he added.</p><p>“Ebony Maw is one of Thanos’s generals,” Gamora explained jumping down from the statue.  “They have the best technology in the galaxy.”</p><p>“Well, let’s go catch him,” the fox-thing said turning to look towards the walls.  “Oh,” he said a moment later.</p><p>“Right,” Quill said.  “Which exit do we use?”</p><p>Any proposal that might have been made was interrupted by the sound of rock grinding against rock.  As one they all looked up to see the ‘statue’ stand and look down at them.  Somehow it was not a nice look.</p><p>“Run!” Nebula yelled as she sprinted the way they’d come.  The others took one more look and bolted after her, just barely outpacing the massive swords that slammed into the ground behind them.</p><p>They vaulted debris, dodging swings from the swords in what seemed like an eternity long chase.  When the guardian couldn’t see any of them it defaulted to cleaving through the massive pillars holding the roof up.  Each hit seemed to cause a ripple through the cavern as the ground and ceiling shook.</p><p>Nebula landed on the other side of the debris she’d thrown Gamora against not five minutes before to see Drax standing with both daggers drawn over the body of a whimpering Mantis.  He’d been looking at the four-story guardian currently rampaging through the cavern.  If she had to guess she’d say he was currently in the grips of a moral dilemma: should he attack the thing, or defend his friend. </p><p>But as she landed, he looked over at her.  “What have you done to Mantis?” he yelled.  Nebula ignored him in her headlong flight.  He attempted to interpose himself in her path, but she dodged to the right and backhanded him with her metal arm without even breaking stride.  Then she was gone, inside the tunnel.</p><p>The other three appeared from the same direction a moment later.  “Run!” Quill yelled upon seeing them.</p><p>Gamora took a half second to take in the scene as she closed the distance.  “Drax, grab Mantis,” she commanded.  Drax took one more look at the looming guardian, lifted his friend into a fireman’s carry, and charged the way Nebula had gone. </p><p>As they passed into the relative safety of the tunnel the statue emitted a roar of frustration.  This was followed by the crashing sounds of it continuing the destruction of the pillars.  It suddenly occurred to them that there was a very good chance that when the construct succeeded in its suicidal mission it might just collapse the tunnels as well.  By unspoken consent the group increased their speed back the way they’d come.</p><p>They piled out of the tunnel entrance just as the center of the monastery collapsed fifty feet downwards, taking several buildings with it.  Turning away from the future pool they’d created yielded the knowledge that they were surrounded by many more Agullans, all armed with nasty looking spears.  They looked rather pissed.  Nebula was standing behind the ring of angry insects looking up at the sky.  They couldn’t see anything, but they could hear the sound of an engine receding above them.</p><p>“Now I know this looks bad-” Quill started, hands up in surrender, before being interrupted by a bulb of light that flashed out from where the sound had disappeared to and hammered straight into his ship.  “Ah man not again!” he yelled standing up.  A move that precipitated a rather hostile tightening of the circle surrounding them.  Along with the angry clacking of mandibles.</p><p>“Nebula,” Gamora called out, “tell them we’re okay.”</p><p>Nebula didn’t respond immediately.  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she demanded quietly, gaze drifting to the ground.</p><p>“Not really,” Quill replied.  “And who is Ebony Maw?”</p><p>“Ebony Maw,” Gamora answered from his side, “is one of Thanos’s favorites.  He has the dark tongue.  The ability to make others believe him, even control them given enough time.”</p><p>“Um, how much time?” Quill asked uncertainly.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Gamora replied.  “Why?”</p><p>“We just spent three days on the Milano with him,” Quill pointed out with a wince for his lost ship.  “I’d kind of like to know if anyone here might turn on us at any time.</p><p>“If he could have turned one of us, he would have done it in the caverns,” Gamora answered.</p><p>“If you’ll recall I TOLD YOU NOT TO TRUST THAT GUY!” Rocket yelled.  “Oh, I’ve got a gut feeling-” he continued before being rudely interrupted.</p><p>“Shut up,” Nebula snapped finally turning towards them.  “Thanos has the Infinity Gauntlet.  And you just led him to the only stone whose location had eluded him,” she continued advancing on them.  When he collects the others-” she added before being interrupted in turn.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I already know,” Quill cut in.  “He’s going to destroy half of the galaxy so he can have some creepy make-out session with Death.  What do you care anyway?”</p><p>“Do you think it will be easier to kill him when he wields the gauntlet?” she asked, definitely using the tone reserved for slow children.</p><p>“I think your odds were about the same,” Quill replied.  “Unless you were hoping to assemble the gauntlet,” he added as an afterthought.</p><p>There would have been more but Nebula stared him into silence before switching her gaze to Gamora.  “How do you tolerate him?” she asked before turning and marching towards the jungle.</p><p>“Nebula wait,” Gamora called after her.  Nebula paused, back still to the party.  “What are you going to do?”</p><p>“Another stone must be hidden,” she stated.</p><p>“You know where another one is?” Quill asked.  She didn’t respond.  “You don’t do you?” he accused.  Still there was no response.  “Well, we know where one is,” Quill added.</p><p>“You really think the Nova Core will hand over the Power Stone to any of you?” Nebula replied.</p><p>“Well they certainly won’t hand it over to you,” Quill shot back.</p><p>“What about The Collector?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“Oh, come on,” Rocket replied condescendingly.  “That guy was lying about everything.  What makes you think he was honest when he said that crazy bastard had the Ether?”</p><p>“Best place to hide a lie is in the truth,” Quill pointed out.</p><p>“And even if he doesn’t have one, The Collector’s been looking for the stones for a long time too,” Gamora added.  “There’s a good chance he’ll know where one is.”</p><p>Upon hearing this Nebula resumed her course at an increased pace.  “Nebula!” Gamora shouted again.  “Let us help you!”</p><p>Nebula stopped in her tracks.  “You’ve never had any interest in helping before,” Nebula whispered, without turning.  If it hadn’t been for Gamora’s genetic augmentation, she wouldn’t have heard it.</p><p>“Yeah well, maybe that’s because you’re creepy, and scary, and mean!” Rocket yelled after her.  Clearly his cybernetic enhancements had also made him privy to the conversation.</p><p>“ROCKET!” Gamora and Quill shouted at the raccoon-thing in unison.</p><p>“I can’t change the past,” Gamora pleaded.  “But I’m here now.  We all are.”</p><p>“Wait, did she say something?” Quill asked, feeling out of the loop.  “You can hear her?”</p><p>“Shut up Peter,” Gamora hissed.</p><p>Quill shrugged turning back to Nebula.  “Come on,” he said giving the warmest grin he could muster.  “You know you’re going to need a ruggedly handsome smooth talker to convince The Collector to help you.”</p><p>In response Nebula did a double eye roll with a slight shake of the head, as if she couldn’t believe Quill’s ego.  But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be useful.  “Let them pass,” she said before continuing towards her ship’s hiding place.  The Agullans surrounding them raised their spears and cleared a path to follow her.  The Guardians wasted no time pursuing.</p><p>“Well done Quill,” Drax said as they cleared the circle of angry.  “I thought for certain she was going to have them impale you.”</p><p>“But she didn’t, because that’s how it’s done,” Quill explained.</p><p>“I don’t understand why she tolerates him,” Nebula whispered to herself earning a smirk from Gamora and a cackle from Rocket.</p><p>“What?” Quill asked noting their reactions.  “Is she talking about me?” he asked.  The others just shook their head.    “Yeah?” he yelled at the Luphoid “Well you’re . . . bald!”  Many sets of eyes were rolled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Reunions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Statesman</p><p>Sol System Outer Rim</p><p>Inbound to Earth</p><p> </p><p>Thor knelt on the cargo deck of The Statesman, the current residence of Asgard, and tried to center himself.  He sat on the heels of his boots, arms in front of him, palms outstretched, eyes closed, trying to concentrate.  Again, his mind began to wander.</p><p>Despite the size of the room he found himself alone; it wasn’t exactly a popular spot since the massive battle with Thanos and his lackeys.  Perhaps if he hung some drapes up, he thought to himself, grinning slightly at the joke.</p><p>Of course, first he’d have to find some drapes; they weren’t exactly loaded down with the necessities of life, let alone its luxuries.  Thor shook his head at himself.  That train of thought would only lead him away from his goal, and down the path of self-recrimination.  At some point, one had to simply accept what had happened, admit that what’s done was done and focus upon what they could still affect.  And the truth was that he’d done all the damage control he could until they reached Earth. </p><p>Now was the time for answers.  It was probably the last chance he’d have before reaching Earth; he’d never actually realized how much work kinging was.  He tried to clear his mind again.  He began by reciting a prayer in long, slow, muted tones:</p><p>
  <em>Lo, there do I see my father,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lo, there do I see my mother,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lo, there do I see my line stretching back to the beginning,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lo, there do I see my father,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Odin, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hail the Allfather</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The One Eyed Wanderer,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Come sit at my fire,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tell me your wisdom stories,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The scenes your missing eye sees</em>
</p><p>“I wonder,” his father’s voice asked “will it always be this way?”</p><p>Thor opened his eyes to see himself in the room he and Loki had been tutored in when they were children.  His father stood in front of his usual chair, looking healthier than he’d last seen him.  Turning to his left brought into view the desks he and his brother had once used so many centuries before.  They were currently filled by the boys they’d been so long ago.  Loki was sitting straight, pencil in hand.  Thor was doodling an epic battle on his scroll.</p><p>“What way is that father?” the older Thor asked, turning back to Odin.</p><p>“You,” the old man explained “looking for the answers you’ve already been given.”</p><p>“I seem to be in need of many more lately,” Thor replied pointedly.</p><p>“True,” Odin agreed with just a touch of shame in his voice.  “Perhaps I should have told you about Hela sooner.”</p><p>“You could have trusted us with Loki’s true identity as well,” Thor said starting to get angry.  “Perhaps all of this could have been avoided.”</p><p>“But then how would I get you to call upon me occasionally?” Odin replied with just a touch of humor mingled with the sadness in his eyes.  Thor glared at him momentarily before that ever so slight twinkle forced a chuckle from him.  An answering (and quite similar) grin spread across Odin’s face for a moment, then he sat down in the chair. </p><p>“We do the best we can,” he said seriously.  “That’s all any parent can do, the most that any child can ask.  No one sees all of the future.  Not me.  Not your brother.  Not the monster that’s taken him.”</p><p>“Did he capture Loki?” Thor asked, fearing the answer.  Odin nodded sadly.  “Well, where is he?” Thor asked.</p><p>Odin regarded his son with a mixture of compassion and disdain.  “What would you do if I told you?” he asked presently.  “Would you attempt to rescue him?”</p><p>“Of course,” Thor snapped.  “We have to hurry, while there’s something of Loki’s mind left.”</p><p>“And give him another to torture?” Odin asked.  “I’m sorry my son, but I cannot do that.”</p><p>Now it was Thor’s turn to regard his father.  “How can you sit there,” he asked in shocked tones “knowing that your son, that <em>your son</em>, is being tortured and twisted into a monster?”</p><p>“I may not know the future,” Odin replied calmly “but I know this.  No man chooses your brothers mind.  No man, not me, nor you, nor that monster.  And I also know that you cannot fight him alone.”</p><p>“You’ve beaten him,” Thor pointed out.</p><p>“Yes,” Odin replied “but always on Asgard, where our power was strongest.”</p><p>“Tell me why that’s so important again,” Thor said.  “When last we spoke you said Asgard was a people, not a place.  Yet, without it I’m . . . weak.”</p><p>The old man leaned forward in his chair.  “Asgard is a people,” Odin assured him.  “It is also a place.  Two pieces joined by a key.”</p><p>“Two pieces . . .” Thor said as if the meaning of that rather cryptic statement was at the tip of his brain.  “I don’t follow.”</p><p>Odin leaned back in the chair, a look of disappointment on his face.  “So concerned were you with battles and glory,” he said with a glance at the young Thor, who was of course still doodling.  “Listen closely, son,” he said leaning forward again.  “Some ages ago our family learned that they could tap into the aether.”</p><p>“The red Infinity Stone?” Thor interrupted.</p><p>Odin sighed.  “No,” he said.  “That name was given to the red stone because it sometimes simulates what people think the aether is.  The aether is an unseen force that exists throughout the galaxy.  It-”</p><p>“It surrounds us,” Thor cut in “and penetrates us.  It binds the galaxy together.”</p><p>“That’s right,” Odin said, surprised and pleased.  “So, you were listening.”</p><p>“Not really,” Thor said with a ghost of a grin.  “It’s something I heard on Earth.”</p><p>“Earth must have advanced further than I’d realized,” Odin mused.</p><p>“Not really,” Thor repeated, not wanting to admit that he’d been quoting Star Wars.  “So, the aether is where the energy for my lightning comes from?” Thor asked.</p><p>“Mostly,” Odin hedged, causing a reflexive irritated look to pass across his son’s face.  “You must understand that the aether has its own spectrum,” he explained.  “It has flavors, colors and moods.  Each of us tap into only a small fraction of that spectrum.  Long ago it was discovered that if a realm was attuned to us then the very act of its inhabitants living out their lives there added to that spectrum.  It enriched it and enhanced it.”</p><p>“The land and the people,” Thor said, focusing back to the lessons learned millennia ago.  “Two pieces connected by a key.  But what was the key?”  His mind sifted through the keys he knew of, most of which having been lost with Asgard.  Odin simply waited, patiently.  “A key to the lands,” Thor said thinking it through before his eyes snapped back to his father.  “Hofund?” he asked in surprise.</p><p>“You didn’t think we made it a key to the bi-frost just for its ambiance, did you?” Odin asked.</p><p>“No, you did it for its Feng Shui,” Thor replied ironically.</p><p>“Perhaps,” Odin replied with the ghost of a grin.  Then the grin faded.  “In any case you are half right.  Hofund was the key to a much larger mechanism.  That mechanism’s true purpose was to act as a convergence point for attuned lands.”</p><p>“When I was a much younger man,” he continued tiredly “only a few years older than you in fact, I foresaw a day when our world and Thanos must collide.   So, I built paths through the galaxy that could channel the attunement to Asgard.  And I,” he said shamefully “I became obsessed with acquiring as much power as I could.  I conquered realm after realm in one bloody, endless campaign.  I destroyed civilizations and rebuilt them to my specifications.  And in the end, I became the very thing I wished to fight.”</p><p>“Father I don’t understand,” Thor said.  “If all you were after was the attunement of these realms then why did it become necessary to subjugate their populations?”</p><p>“We discovered that the attunement would sometimes collapse unless the native populations held our line in their thoughts.  Whether they hated us or worshipped us was not relevant; that feeling would reinforce the attunement.  And so, I became a monster to some, a savior to others, and a tyrant to all.”</p><p>“But if you’d gained the strength you needed then why didn’t you smite Thanos?” Thor asked.</p><p>“I’d gained only enough power to eliminate him on one of our worlds.  He was quick to discover this and avoided them.  He claimed he’d seen a day when my web would be broken, and that he could wait.”</p><p>“And now it has,” Thor said, reexamining the past few days.</p><p>“Listen son-,” Odin said earnestly before being interrupted.</p><p>“My lord,” Heimdall said from directly behind Thor, snapping him out of his meditation, “Forgive me for the interruption but we approach Earth, and have received a communication from an organization named Shield.”</p><p>Thor did his best to suppress the irritation at the interruption and stood up.  He’d have to finish that conversation at another time.  “Did they give you a name?” Thor asked, turning to the henchmen.  He couldn’t help but eye the sword he had strapped to his back.</p><p>“He said his name is Coulson,” Heimdall replied.</p><p>The name earned a startled glance from Thor as he stepped down from the dais.  He knew enough about the naming conventions on Earth to know that just because someone’s name was Coulson didn’t mean it was the Coulson he’d known, or that they were even related.  But a Coulson from Shield?  That seemed to be stretching things.  Yet, he’d seen Phil Coulson die at Loki’s hand.</p><p>He collected Banner on the way, knowing that Brunnhilde, the Valkyrie warrior they’d enlisted on Sakaar, would already be on the bridge flying the ship.  It still surprised him that the somewhat excitable biologist (with 7 P.H.D.’s; it was important for some reason) was alive.  When the Hulk had failed to make an appearance, Thor had written them both off.</p><p>Thor stopped dead in his tracks as they entered the bridge.  Despite his hopes, it still shocked him to find the middle-aged man’s visage on the viewscreen.  “Phil!” he called out, “You’re alive.”  It probably wasn’t the keenest observation he’d ever made.</p><p>Coulson grinned slightly at that.  Or perhaps it was a grimace, Thor couldn’t tell.  The monstrous Asgardian wasn’t the first (nor the most intelligent) to react in exactly that manner.  But all he said was “Hello Thor.”</p><p>“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Thor replied “but . . .”</p><p>“How?” Coulson finished.  It wasn’t a first for that reaction either.  “Kree blood,” he replied simply.  “I’d rather not discuss it.  But while we’re in the area, I don’t suppose you’ve got your brother with you?”</p><p>Thor tried to be angry on his brother’s behalf, but found that he couldn’t.  This man had apparently suffered greatly due to what was really just an insanely long tantrum thrown by said brother.</p><p>“A bag full of cats,” Banner offered softly.  Thor grinned at the reference</p><p>“Loki . . . he’s changed, Phil,” Thor said.</p><p>“Are you certain?” came the immediate response.  “He is the God of Lies.”</p><p>Which was the same thing Thanos had called Loki.  Thor decided to let that go.  “Look, I need to speak to The Avengers,” he said, changing the subject.</p><p>“That’s . . . not possible,” Coulson replied sheepishly.</p><p>“Why not?” Thor asked.  “I am an Avenger after all.”</p><p>“Well,” Coulson replied as if searching for words “there’s been a . . . a bit of a disagreement in the ranks.”</p><p>“Isn’t there always?” Thor asked.</p><p>“Not like this.  I think I’ll let Mr. Stark fill you in on that,” he added.</p><p>“Alright, then can I talk to him?” Thor asked. </p><p>“Not at the moment, but if you want to land, I’ll have you picked up.”</p><p>“Yeah, about that,” Thor said slowly.  “We’ve got refugees with us.  Would it be possible to land them in Norway?”</p><p>Coulson squinted in momentarily confusion, before a grin of understanding crossed his lips.  He began tapping at the keys on his keyboard.  “Give me a few minutes,” he told them and disappeared off of the pickup.</p><p>“What is special about this Norway?” Heimdall asked.</p><p>“It’s as where father died,” Thor said quietly.  “I believe he foresaw this.  He wanted us to rebuild Asgard there.”</p><p>Before the seer could respond Coulson returned in the pickup.  “Proceed to these coordinates,” he said, reeling off a latitude and longitude. </p><p>“That was fast,” Thor replied.</p><p>“What; that?” Coulson replied.  “That was easy, once I convinced them I wasn’t drunk.”</p><p>“What did you say?” Thor asked.</p><p>“I said ‘The Norse Gods would like to live in your country’.  I’d hurry if I were you.  It’s difficult to land a ship of that size in a parade.”</p><p> Thor laughed at that.  “Um, one problem,” Thor said.  “I’m familiar with latitude and longitude, but this ship isn’t.  I’m not even sure where Norway is.”</p><p>“Well then, I guess we’ll have to teach it,” Coulson replied evenly.  He then superimposed a map of the world on his screen.  A light began blinking on the map off the west coast of Africa.  “This is Latitude 0, Longitude 0,” Coulson instructed.  Now each degree of deviation east and north of that mark is roughly 69 miles.”  A grid of lines grew from that point, covering the world.</p><p>“How long is a mile?” Heimdall asked without looking up from the console.</p><p>“Um . . . five thousand two hundred and eighty feet,” Coulson answered.</p><p>“And how long is a foot?” Heimdall asked sounding slightly badgered.  No doubt if Coulson had brought inches into the equation the stoic gate keeper would unleash a rather critical observation on the intelligence of humans.  In his defense, it had been a bad week.</p><p>Fortunately, Coulson merely held up a metal ruler and said “The length of this object is exactly one foot.”</p><p>Heimdall squinted at the object, unsure of the scale.  He recognized none of the objects in the foreground or background, which made it hard to gain any perspective.  If Coulson were a small man (as he seemed to be) then a foot was about twice the width of Heimdall’s hand.  If he were larger it would be closer to four times.</p><p>“I know this isn’t the most accurate method, but I’m not sure what else to do,” Coulson said as he attempted to reason it out.  If we could get a look at the software architecture of your ships, we could probably get you access to our GPS satellites, but that could take weeks.”</p><p>“Does this ship have a holographic imager?” Banner asked.</p><p>“I think so,” Heimdall said, searching through various screens in the interface.   “Ah, yes here it is.”  He began entering commands to scan the source of the transmission.  Unfortunately, there were about three dozen humans in the building.  He targeted one at random and a true to size hologram of rather overweight woman appeared.</p><p>“Well that’s not Phil,” Thor offered helpfully.</p><p>Heimdall ignored him, instead moving on to the next, and the next and the next, until they found someone resembling a balding middle-aged man holding a ruler.  Heimdall then had the computer scan the length of the ruler.  “A foot is 1.1325 galactic ryes,” he announced, entering the final bit of data into the computer.  It took only a second for it to locate the coordinates.</p><p>“On our way,” Brunnhilde said from the pilot’s chair.</p><p>“Now,” Thor said turning back to Coulson “where is Stark?”</p><p>“I can’t go into that right now,” Coulson said sharply.</p><p>“Come on Phil, this is important.”</p><p>“He’s on a classified mission,” the agent said.</p><p>“I guarantee you mine’s more classified,” Thor replied.</p><p>“What’s classified mean?” Brunnhilde stage whispered.</p><p>“I don’t know, it means important or something,” Thor replied offhandedly.</p><p>“More like secret or confidential,” Coulson replied.  “Except secret and confidential are different levels of classification.  Then there’s top secret, restricted, compartmentalized-”</p><p>“-Alright I get it,” Thor cut in.  “My mission may not be more classified but it <em>is</em> more important.  I really do need to see the rest of The Avengers.”</p><p>“I’m sorry Thor but I can’t help you,” Coulson said.  He paused.  “I imagine that you’ve got resources of your own to find them,” he added before ending the connection.</p><p>“Scan the planet for a man in a metal suit,” Thor ordered.</p><p>“This is basically a freighter,” Brunnhilde replied.  “Its sensors aren’t sophisticated enough for that kind of scan.”</p><p>“Well, what about vibranium?” Banner asked.</p><p>“And what, pray tell, is vibranium?” Brunnhilde asked.</p><p>“Oh, well that’s just what we call it,” the somewhat mousy biologist answered quickly.  “It’s the metal Steve’s shield is made of.  It absorbs the kinetic energy of whatever impacts it.”</p><p>“I know the material,” Heimdall replied from the console he was standing at.  He tapped a few buttons, scrolled through a list, and hit enter.  A series of dots began showing up all over the globe.  “It appears that they’ve distributed trinket sized chunks of . . . vibranium, fairly liberally all over the world,” he said looking at the map.  “Except here,” he said pointing to a massive signature on one of the land masses.</p><p>“We’re looking for something the size of a buckler,” Thor told him.</p><p>“There’s something like that here,” he said zooming in on one section of a continent.</p><p>“No,” Banner replied “That’s Tony’s lab.  If he’s on a mission he won’t be there.  He never told me he had any vibranium though,” he added thoughtfully.  “I wonder why.”</p><p>“Alright screw this,” Thor replied.  “Banner, do you know where the city of New York is?”</p><p>“Sure, it’s in New York” he said eliciting blank stares from those assembled.  “Sorry, the city New York is in the State also named New York,” he explained.  They continued to stare blankly.  “Well, I don’t have the GPS coordinates or anything,” he added defensively.</p><p>“Fine, help Heimdall find this New York,” Thor said as he headed for the exit.  “Get a map and send me the coordinates.”  And with that he was gone.</p><p>“Brunnhilde,” Heimdall commanded before following.</p><p>“Oh sure,” she yelled just as the ship started encountering the chop of the atmosphere “I’m only a little busy flying the bloody ship!”</p><p>“I’ll help,” Banner said moving to her station.  She already had the map of the globe up.  “That’s New York,” he said pointing to a section of land on the east coast of the USA.</p><p>“Where are you going?” Heimdall asked as Thor moved purposefully through the ship.</p><p>“Help Brunnhilde land the ship,” Thor told him, not quite ignoring the question.  “Then see to some sort of lodgings for our people.”</p><p>“I am not an architect,” Heimdall protested.</p><p>“And I am not a diplomat,” Thor responded as he weaved through the undamaged areas of the ship.  “But whatever is going on with The Avengers has Coulson nervous.  I have the sinking feeling we’re both going to end up learning to build bridges.”</p><p>“Your people need you here,” Heimdall argued. </p><p>“There’s no time Heimdall,” Thor replied, punching the open button on the escape pod.  It was one of the few that were still operational.  Well, it was supposed to be operational.  “I have to get back to Knowhere and retrieve the Ether before Thanos gets it.  Assuming he hasn’t already.  And for that, I need Tony.”</p><p>As if to punctuate his point one of the water lines in the ship ruptured spilling liquid on the deck plating.</p><p>“We’ve found the city,” Brunnhilde said over the intercom.  “Coordinates are as follows:” she said before reeling of a set of galactic standard coordinates.  Thor dutifully punched them in.</p><p>“Where are you going?” Heimdall repeated as Thor stepped into the pod.</p><p>Thor grinned.  “I’m off to see the wizard,” he said just before the doors closed and ejected the pod.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. It's a Dirtier Job</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nairobi, Kenya</p><p>African Continent, Earth</p><p>“You know, you’d think that after the first five or six hideouts these Hydra guys would learn,” Sam Wilson said as they crept warily up on what was reportedly the secret entrance of the megalomaniacal group’s most recently identified hideout; this one being in the basement of the Union Bank building.  A basement with no exit.  The six-man team had already circumvented the cameras and various alarms and were making their way through a labyrinth of corridors.  “I mean, Nairobi is only three hundred miles from the most technologically advanced country in the world.”</p><p>“Ever hear the saying that sometimes the best place to hide something is in plain sight?” Scott Lang asked.</p><p>“That only works when people aren’t paying attention,” Sam replied quickly.</p><p>“Um-,” Scott started to say.</p><p>“We can’t all be tiny like you, Tick-Tack,” Sam amended even quicker.</p><p>“Sam might have a point,” Clint Barton said from the rear of the group.</p><p>“Sam,” Steve Rogers said from the front of the group “have you ever heard the phrase ‘borrowing trouble’?”</p><p>“Tell me,” Natasha Romanova cut in “have any of you heard of the phrase ‘stealth op’?”</p><p>“Come on Nat,” Clint replied.  “Tell me you don’t have that tense feeling between your shoulder blades.  We’re overdue for something bad to happen.”</p><p>“Made all the more likely by the constant chatter <em>about</em> that impending something,” she replied pointedly, as they came around the last turn into another anticlimactic hallway.</p><p>“Natasha’s right,” Rogers said as they approached what appeared to be a normal door.  “Let’s keep it down,” he added as they approached what appeared to be an ornamental shelf.  It blended quite well with the rest of the hall’s motif.  It wouldn’t have drawn any attention from anyone who didn’t already know what it really was.</p><p>Sam carefully lifted and slid the façade to the side revealing a steal reinforced door at least a foot thick.  “You’re up Tick Tack,” he whispered.</p><p>“Right,” Lang said, ensuring he was right in front of Falcon before miniaturizing himself.  Sam just shook his head, a slight grin peering out of one side of his face.  A moment later Lang’s voice came through their radios loud and clear.  It wasn’t like he had to worry about his voice carrying when he was small enough to fit through the cracks in the security door.  “Why do they keep making these things thicker?” he asked while panting hard.  “It’s like these guys hate me or something. “</p><p>“They’re probably just concerned you aren’t getting your calisthenics in,” Falcon murmured.</p><p>“It’s a valid concern Scott,” Cap added.  “You should go running with me and Sam some time.”</p><p>“No thanks,” Lang laughed as he puffed along.  “Getting humiliated by you is Sam’s hobby, not mine.  Alright,” he added a moment later “I’ve reached the other side.  Stand by.  It’s . . . empty!” he added surprised.</p><p>“What?” three people almost yelled as Nat rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Quiet,” Wanda (Scarlet Witch) Maximoff hissed.</p><p>“It’s empty,” Lang repeated.  “There’s not even a guard on this side of the door.”</p><p>“Alright, let us in,” Cap ordered, half turning to Widow.  “Is this where you ask if we’re familiar with the phrase ‘I told you so’?”  She just raised an eyebrow as if to illustrate the lack of need.</p><p>A moment later there was a loud thunk from the door.  It opened to reveal a life-sized Scott Lang standing in front of a normal enough looking office floor.  “Entrez s’il vous plait,” he said with a grandiose bow that included a wave for them to enter the room.</p><p>As Cap entered the arch there was a beep, followed almost directly by an explosion as the entire frame came apart.  Cap barely had time to extend his retractable shield and face it upwards to protect his head, but that left his sides exposed.  Wanda managed to stop most of the concrete shrapnel aimed for his vital organs but the pressure wave sent him flying, unconscious, through the air, to collide with a counter.  The others on the outside were protected from the blast due to their positions against the wall, but Lang was caught completely off guard and thrown over the counter.</p><p>“Well hey there tiny,” a stereotypically thuggish voice said as a dozen men in combat rigs appeared from behind several desks and concrete walls.  Five of them were behind the counter Lang had been thrown over.  He was barely aware of one of them reaching down.  At first his dazed mind interpreted this as one of his allies reaching down to help him up and he actually reached out to him.  But, just before the man could rip the control unit off of his suite his eyes snapped to the Hydra pin on his lapel, and he instinctively hit the miniaturization button on his suit.</p><p>“Shit,” the man cursed raising his weapon and looking frantically around.  A moment later Lang expanded from directly under the gun, grabbing it and kicking the man in the shins.  He used that moment of pain to turn the assault rifle on his assailant and fired.  He then miniaturized again before said assailant’s friends could avenge him.  Their crossfire wounded another two of their own before they registered that their target was nowhere in sight.</p><p>At the same moment the frame came apart, miniguns lowered themselves from the ceiling on either side of the hall.  Wanda barely had enough time to stop focusing on the pieces of doorframe and put her barriers up to protect the group, but the strain those streams of bullets were placing on her abilities was immense.</p><p>“Shit!  Into the room,” Sam snapped leading the way.  He started with his wings in front of him as bullet shields.  He quickly emptied his clip as he passed the threshold, scoring hits on two Hydra thugs, before turning and extending his wings to their maximum reach on either side.  He dropped to one knee, bracing the other leg out to counter the momentum of the many hundreds of bullets currently impacting it, and dropped his head.  The others dove into the room, Clint dragging Wanda through last.</p><p>Nat popped up from the cover of Sam’s left wing and fired three shots from each pistol, hitting twice.  Realizing she’d probably drawn more attention than she would have liked, she ducked back down just before seven of the gunmen turned their fire on her.  Clint took advantage of that momentary lapse to pop up from behind the right wing and fire an explosive arrow at the center of a trio that was currently trying to perforate Nat.  He ducked back down as two of Nat’s remaining assailants turned towards him.</p><p>Of the two that hadn’t targeted the dynamic duo one was vigorously stomping behind the counter, in a desperate bid to squash Antman like a five-year-old stomping on run of the mill ants.  He was having about the same luck as that hypothetical five-year-old.  He’d also completely forgotten that Lang was actually an ant sized human, a point that made itself apparent when Antman re-expanded on the upward part of the man’s stomp movement.  Lang grabbed the man’s foot from directly underneath and pushed up while expanding, forcing his assailant’s knee into a rather awkward merger with his nose.</p><p>The last of those not paying attention to the spy and the assassin was attempting to get a shot at the still unconscious form of Rogers, laying just on the other side of the half wall he’d taken cover behind.  “Cover fire!” he yelled just before he vaulted over the barrier, pointing his gun downward at the helpless form.  The other Hydra thugs responded with a flurry of suppression fire that was plenty to keep Nat and Clint’s heads down.</p><p>But it didn’t stop Wanda from seeing what he was attempting through the gaps in Falcon’s titanium alloy feathers.  It was no more effective at stopping her from flinging the man telekinetically upwards, jamming his head into the ceiling with a crunching sound that drew a wince of sympathy from all assembled.</p><p>“You guys think you could stop playing with them?” Falcon grunted, bracing his hands on his knees.  “Their bullets do have mass you know,” he added, perhaps a tad bit surly about his role as a tower shield in this particular fight.</p><p>Just then Scott hurled an assault rifle like a discus at two of the remaining men across the room “Now!” he yelled before ducking back down.  The sound drew all four of that group’s attention, if only for a fraction of a moment.  Nat and Clint used that fraction for all it was worth, popping up over Falcon’s wings to finish all four of them off.</p><p>“Clear,” they said in unison.</p><p>“Yeah, clear,” Scott added half a second later.  As Falcon stood and retracted his wings there was a boom from the other side of the room followed by the sound of cars accelerating.</p><p>Apparently, that was enough to wake Cap from his beauty sleep.  “Ungh,” he groaned struggling to rise as the others went to help him.  He stopped part way through the motion and groaned in pain.  His left hand felt along his side and grasped on to something.  “Is everyone all right?” he asked the room in general.</p><p>“Tick Tack,” Sam said as he knelt by Cap “go check the other room.”</p><p>“On it,” he said before dashing from where he was hovering.</p><p>Meanwhile Steve had more important concerns.  “Gaahh,” he groaned as he ripped a three-inch piece of rebar out of his ribs.</p><p>“Sorry about that,” Wanda murmured, already chastising herself.</p><p>“Wanda,” Steve said slowly, removing his helmet “we’ve talked about this.  You saved my life.  You don’t need to apologize for missing one piece of an entire door.”  She didn’t respond.  He could almost hear her arguing with herself about whether or not she should listen, whether or not he was being honest or simply softening her failure.</p><p>“Times like this I wish Stark were here,” Nat said from the door where she was watching the hall. </p><p>“Why, so he could go through the door?” Steve asked.</p><p>“No, because his sensors probably would have noted the explosives,” she replied.</p><p>“I’ll ask the king about that,” Cap replied with a sigh.</p><p>“I guess it’s a good thing you went through the door then,” Clint said from the other end of the room where he was watching the door Scott had disappeared through.</p><p>“Thanks Clint,” Cap replied, looking down to see that he was still holding the rebar.  He flicked it to the floor in annoyance.</p><p>“No, he’s right,” Sam said from where he was cuffing the surviving members of the ambush group.  “Any of us would have been killed by the overpressure.  Hell, Tick Tack probably would have anyways if he hadn’t been wearing a helmet.”</p><p>“Someone talking about me?” Scott asked, reappearing from whence he’d gone.  “Hey, me friendly,” he added as Clint drew back on his bow at his sudden presence.</p><p>“How many times have I told you not to do that?” Clint said, relaxing his grip.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said, edging past the modern-day ranger.  “You all right, Cap?” he asked as he weaved between the various consoles in the room.</p><p>“Hey,” Sam interrupted, standing back up “what happened in there?”</p><p>“Well you must be all right if Sam’s talking for you,” Lang replied sardonically.</p><p>“I’ll be fine Scott,” Rogers said.</p><p>“Good,” he replied “because you need to see this,” he added, hooking his thumb back to the other room.</p><p>Sam whistled in surprise as they entered the room.  It wasn’t anything they’d expected, or anything they’d seen in the previous five bases they’d liberated.  It was a garage, complete with three 2016 Toyota Corollas of varying color still sitting there. </p><p>“This room’s directly beneath the bank’s subterranean parking lot,” Lang said pointing upwards.  They planted charges and dropped the ceiling.  Then they just drove out,” he said pointing to what looked like a half inch steel plate that had kept the concrete mostly intact as it fell.   The plate was connected by a massive hinge to the ceiling.</p><p>“Sam,” Cap ordered.</p><p>“Already on it,” Sam said, skimming through the surveillance footage from the drone he insisted on calling Redwing. </p><p>“So much for letting them underestimate us,” Cap muttered, still holding his side.</p><p>“I tried to warn you,” Sam replied without looking away from the screen.  The view showed a sudden plume of concrete dust bursting out of the parking structure’s sides.  Three cars plowed through the cloud at reckless speed, each banking a different direction.  Sam manipulated the controls to get a better view of the cars and backed the footage up again.  “Alright, looks like a white Toyota Camry, a blue Hyundai Elantra, and a dark green Nissan Sentra,” he told them.  “All models within the last three years.”</p><p>“Alright, Sam,” Steve said, quickly snapping orders “you’re on overwatch.  Find those cars.  Clint, you and Scarlet take one of the cars they so kindly left us.  Kat, you and Scott take the other.  Sam, when your done directing them you take the last car.”</p><p>“What about you?” Wanda asked.</p><p>“I’ll only slow you down,” Steve said.  “Besides, someone needs to deal with these guys,” he added, nodding back to the other room.  “Rendezvous at the fallback point,” he told them, as he pulled out a small button.  “So much for quiet in and quiet out,” he muttered as he pressed it.</p><p>They all traded a quick glance and bolted for the cars.  “Dibs on the Hyundai,” Widow called out as she slid across the hood of one of the Camrys.</p><p>“Why the Hyundai?” Lang asked as he got into the left seat of the car.  She already had the car started and her seatbelt on.</p><p>“I won’t feel bad about wrecking it,” she said with a grin.  She gunned the engine, accelerating far more recklessly than their prey, while he struggled with the seatbelt.</p><p>Once they were gone Steve limped back into the other room to check on the prisoners.  As he entered the room two of them pushed a false tooth clear.</p><p>“Cut off one head,” they said in unison.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah I know,” Cap replied pulling a quick injector out of a pocket.</p><p>“Two will rise,” they finished doggedly before passing out.</p><p>“You guys really need to learn some new tricks,” Steve said jabbing the injector into their chests.  The antidote was also a sedative, meaning he wouldn’t have to worry about escape attempts whilst he secured their transportation.  He jabbed the other three survivors just to be safe, and stood up to survey his options.</p><p>He couldn’t very well hump them all to the extraction point; it would no doubt be a bit suspicious if he buddy tied them all together and drug them to the parking structure.  And he certainly wasn’t going to try and cart them out in a Corolla.  Aside from the visibility issues there was the fact that they wouldn’t fit.  And, if one of them were to shake off the sedative a little quickly it would be hell containing him.</p><p>He looked around again, stopping when he noticed the hole in the ceiling.  On impulse he jogged over to it and climbed up the rather steep incline of the escape ramp.  It led to the parking area of a bank.  And banks meant, he thought as he spotted what he was looking for.  The guard station would have made it obvious, but the heavy fortification, tire spikes, and barricade really clinched it. </p><p>He only made it a dozen or so steps towards the entrance before a guard stepped out brandishing a pistol.  “Stop,” he said in English.</p><p>Rogers considered his options.  This guy probably had no connection to Hydra.  He was just some guy doing his job.  Steve couldn’t justify killing or even severely injuring him, which automatically canceled the most expedient methods of achieving his goal.</p><p>“Please help me,” he said pulling his hand from his side to reveal his wound. </p><p>“Stay where you are,” the middle-aged man said.  His hair was short and his skin was almost as black as an inkwell.  Steve noted the hand holding the gun was shaking slightly.  He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.  On the one hand it meant the man didn’t want to shoot anyone.  On the other, it meant he might fire by accident. </p><p>“Please,” Steve replied, limping towards him.  He was probably overdoing the performance, but he’d never been a good actor.  Besides, all he needed was a few more seconds.</p><p>“Stop or you will be shot,” the man ordered.  Wanting to shoot or not he clearly knew his business. </p><p>Steve considered his options.  There was still a good ten feet of garage separating them putting him out of reach of the man’s gun.  And having his body violated by high speed metal once was more than enough for today as far as he was concerned.  It didn’t seem that the guy was buying his performance, but what the hell; in for a penny, in for a pound.</p><p>He sank to his knees and doubled over, still holding his side.  Then he let out a groan that sounded so fake he wondered that the guard didn’t just shoot him.  “Please,” he almost wailed, to try and cover it.</p><p>Steve heard the man holster his weapon.  “I will get help,” the man said, turning back to the shack.  Steve leapt to his feet, covering the remaining distance in two long painful strides.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, disarming the man as he turned to investigate the noise.  Steve wrapped the arm holding the gun around the man’s neck, using his other arm as a lever to cinch it tight.</p><p>“What?” the man asked in confusion.</p><p>“I really am sorry about this,” Steve whispered as the man lost consciousness.</p><p>Despite the added pain involved Steve carried him back to the shack and set him gently on the floor.  He was barely done securing him with his own handcuffs when the man groaned and came to.</p><p>“What are you going to do to me?” he asked, fear evident in his voice.</p><p>“Nothing,” Steve told him.  “But I’m afraid I need to borrow one of your vehicles.  I’ll try not to damage it.”  The man stared at him as if he’d suddenly started speaking some alien dialect, but he made no move to stop him as he grabbed his security badge.</p><p>“You’re that America guy,” the man said finally.  “Captain America.”</p><p>“Well, no,” Steve replied.  “I mean I was, but not anymore,” he explained wistfully.  “The beard and smooth head really make it hard to tell don’t they,” he added as he stood up and surveyed the guard shack.  It had a door leading to the rest of the garage, a console to the left that presumably lowered the barricades, and a case on the right-hand wall.</p><p>The keys to the cars were in the locked case, but the badge wouldn’t open it.  Steve really didn’t feel like rummaging through the guy’s pockets, so he activated his shield again and shield punched a clean cut in the lock holes.  The force caused the now freed door to swing on its hinge. He grabbed the lowest denomination key, hoping the cars would be parked in numerical order, and exited through the other entrance.</p><p>It took only a few seconds to find the car that would accept his key and get inside.  As he climbed into the cab, it occurred to him that he’d broken far more laws since becoming an outlaw than in all the years since.  He wasn’t really sure if years as a ‘capsicle’ should or shouldn’t count towards his good behavior, but it either way it was a disturbing trend.</p><p>He parked the armored car at the gate just long enough to hop out and deactivate the barricades, then drove back to the hole the escapees had made.  His sleeping beauties were still out on the ground.  First thing, he removed some incredibly advanced zip ties from a pocket and set about restraining them.  There was little doubt that they would wake before he could get them to a detention center and he didn’t want them making trouble. </p><p>Then he dragged them, two at a time, up the ramp and threw them in the back of the armored car.  He knew he should be gentler, but with his side feeling as though it had been the target of a cannon, he was having a hard time with empathy.  Besides, he was in a hurry.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“It’s the blue four door, three cars ahead of you,” Falcon told Nat.  Between the take from Redwing and his own position flying above the city it hadn’t been hard to track down their wayward thugs.  He’d directed Nat towards the Hyundai because, well she scared him.  He had redwing following the Nissan, and he’d already directed Clint towards the Toyota.</p><p>“Got it,” Nat said spotting the rather high riding SUV.  “Thanks Falcon.”</p><p>“Please consider Falcon Reconnaissance for all your future Hydra tracking needs,” he said as he banked north towards where the Nissan was leaving city limits. </p><p>“Got it,” Nat said with a slight grin.  She pulled up on the right side of the blue monstrosity and aimed her wrist stunner at the rear wheel.</p><p>“Wait!” Lang said from the passenger seat.</p><p>“What?” she snapped.</p><p>“Well, it’s just that that car is much bigger than this one,” Lang said.</p><p>“Do you find it intimidating?” she asked, not getting what he was on about.</p><p>“No,” Lang replied “but it seems it would be easier to transport them to the alternate backup in it rather than this little thing.  Of course, that would be a tad difficult if it’s been flipped several times.”</p><p>“You’ve been watching too many movies, Scott,” she replied in reference to his concern that the car would flip if she shot out its tire.  “But you may have a point.  How do you want to proceed?”</p><p>“Can you get me up to the left side of the car without them noticing us?” he asked just as their target suddenly gunned it, forcing their way through traffic.   “Well so much for that plan,” he muttered as Nat swerved around the out of control vehicles their maneuver had created.  “Just get me alongside,” he added as he was slammed into the passenger window. </p><p>“Right,” Nat said as she careened around more improvised barricades and accelerated.  “You sure about this?” she asked, as she realized what he had in mind.</p><p>“Yeah, no problem,” he added as the rear passenger leaned out the window and began firing at them.  “You know, I was just thinking something was missing,” he added as she dodged behind the vehicle.</p><p>“Get ready,” she said waiting for the man to reposition himself to shoot out the back of the car.  “So predictable,” she muttered as he did so.  She gunned the engine and rammed the back of the vehicle just as he was mid turn, making him drop the gun in the back.  As he reached down to grab it, she swerved back to the left of the vehicle and accelerated, holding her right arm out in front of Lang. </p><p>As she fired, stunning the gunman she’d been playing with, Lang grabbed her arm and miniaturized himself to the size of a small paperclip.  A slight pull during the process was all it took to send him airborne.  In one fluid motion she caught the tiny hero and threw him at the now unoccupied window.  She immediately backed off to avoid more damage.  Whatever was going to happen was now up to the somewhat flighty master of mass.</p><p>As Lang entered the car, he hit his suit’s button again, expanding into a flying double kick aimed at the poor sod sitting in the back passenger seat.  He barely had time to register the fact that his buddy had been stunned before an expanding set of size 10 boots hammered him into the side of the car.</p><p>The goon in the forward passenger seat was a bit quicker on the uptake.  Before Lang had landed on the seat, he was already swinging a pistol around the seat.  Lang pushed off of the back seat and shrank again before he could get a shot off.</p><p>Not that that stopped him from firing anyway; the errant bullet came within an inch of the slumped gunner Nat had stunned.  As he searched for his intended victim Lang regrew from directly under his gun hand.  As he expanded, he grabbed the wrist holding the gun with his right hand and pulled.  At the same time his left hand came streaking up (helped by the increasing size) and dislocated the man’s elbow.</p><p>As he yelled in pain Scott’s right hand released and rocketed forward impacting the man’s collar bone with an open-handed punch.  And when he lurched backwards from the strike Scott shrank again.  As the arm he was still holding carried him forward into the front of the cab he leaped off and kicked the driver in the cheekbone.</p><p>While the driver recoiled, Lang vaulted off of his face towards the steering wheel.  He slid quickly down it and jumped for the brake pedal.  While in the air he increased his mass to normal, so the full force of an 87 kg man landed on it.  The car lurched forward as the brakes engaged, fighting the engine.  Realizing what Lang had done the driver stomped on the brakes as hard as he could. </p><p>Of course, it’s hard to miss a foot the size of a mountain heading your way; Lang had no trouble diving to the side.  As the car came to a sliding stop Nat pulled up and stunned the front two.</p><p>“Not bad, Mini Me,” she said getting out.</p><p>“What do you mean not bad?” Lang protested as he climbed out of the car, back to his normal size.  “This is totally deserving of some orange slices.”</p><p>“What is it with you and orange slices?” she asked beginning to pull the driver out of his seat.</p><p>“Well you see,” Lang explained “when I was training to be Ant Man-”</p><p>“I really don’t care,” Nat replied, cutting him off and stunning the guy in the back passenger seat as he started to come to.  “Come on, help me get them in the back.   Cap this is Ant-Widow,” she said keying her mike.  “Got four sleeping beauties, en route to rendezvous.”</p><p>“Roger that,” came the reply.</p><p>“Let’s get them cuffed and in the back,” she said to Lang.</p><p>“Right,” he said as if being reminded of something he’d forgotten.  He pulled a couple of high-tech zip ties from his jacket and got back to work.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“How do you want to handle this?” Wanda asked Clint as he did his best to not look like he was following the white Toyota Camry that was in turn doing its best to not look like it was carting around a group of wanted terrorists and assassins.</p><p>“I don’t suppose you could pick the car up?” Clint asked.</p><p>“Lift it, yes.  Keep it up?” Wanda asked with one eyebrow raised.</p><p>“Right,” Clint said.  “Just stomp on their brakes I guess,” he told her.</p><p>She didn’t respond, instead beginning to weave the mystic spell that would allow her to depress the brake pedal.  It didn’t take long for the occupants to realize something was wrong, and begin looking for the them.  She supplemented their confusion by turning on the stereo and cranking the volume, activating the windshield wipers, spraying windshield cleaner, adjusting the seats and in general just creating utter chaos.  If they hadn’t known better, the occupants would have probably thought the car’s name was Christine.</p><p>“Nice,” Clint said as he hit a button on the quiver he’d stashed between the front seats when he took the wheel.  He lowered the driver window letting his left arm ride on the top.  He then grabbed his compacted bow and placed it in his left hand.  The arrow he’d selected followed.</p><p>Preparations complete, he pulled the E brake and turned the wheel hard to the right.  As the car spun his left thumb activated the bow, causing it to extend just outside the cab of the car.  His right hand released the wheel, grabbed the arrow, strung it, pulled it back, and released it in one fluid motion.  He then lowered the E brake, turned the wheel hard the other direction, and pulled out of the spin.</p><p>Meanwhile the arrow he’d fired hit the rear driver side window, but instead of penetrating completely it lodged itself with just the head inside the cab.  A half second later the head emitted an ultrasonic pulse that knocked out everyone in the car.</p><p>“Alright, let’s get them locked down,” he said, already hopping out of car.  “And could you turn that music down please?” he added.</p><p>“Sure,” she said just as the music died.</p><p>“Kids these days and their loud music,” He muttered as he activated his mike.  “Cap this is Hawk-Witch.  Got five sleeping not so beauties.”  He glanced at the car.  There was no way they’d stay out until he could get them to the extraction site, and that was if he could fit them all in a car.  Using both vehicles was out of the question; there’d be no one to watch the drivers back for when they woke up.  He couldn’t expect Wanda to keep five people held down all the way back, and drawing a bow in a car was something worse than awkward.  “Be advised,” he added “transport to evac site problematic at best.”</p><p>“Alright,” came the reply.  “Find an area large enough to land in.  I’ll have evac swing by and grab you first.”</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Falcon had no trouble relocating the last car.  It had actually made it just out of city limits before he arrived on the scene.  Now, picking the appropriate ordinance, that was a bit trickier.  After all, it was an important occasion.  Kind of like a first date.  You didn’t want to overdo your restaurant choice with some fancy four-star establishment, but if you sprung for Burger King you probably weren’t getting so much as a peck on the cheek, no matter how much she liked Whoppers.</p><p>“Not that one, not that one,” he murmured to himself as he swiped through the various payloads his ‘bird suit’ had available.  Say what you want about Stark, he knew all about pimping out someone’s gear.  “Nope, we need them alive,” he said as he passed up the missile with the H.E. warhead.  “Ah, there we go.”</p><p>No doubt the Hydra operatives were just starting to breathe easy when a rocket went screaming through the engine compartment.  There was no warhead.  It was little more than a rocket propelled bullet, a very big bullet.  The car’s momentum ramped it over what was left of the engine as a large portion of it fell out of the compartment. </p><p>Most people probably would have considered such an event an act of God, and wondered what they’d done to piss the crotchety old bastard off.  But Hydra knew who was coming for them.  The car had barely stopped acting like a demented roller coaster when the doors opened, disgorging its occupants.</p><p>The driver had barely exited and was just beginning a skyward sweep when Falcon swooped in, killed most of his velocity, wrapped the wings around him creating a shell, and allowed his forward momentum to jam the driver between the door and the frame.  He slid to the ground, unconscious.  Alive did not necessarily mean healthy.</p><p>The shell opened revealing both of Falcon’s arms holding Uzis; Uzis aimed directly at the woman who’d just unassed at the rear driver side door.  The fact that the window between them was bullet proof did not stop her from ducking as the bullets ricocheted up into the sky.  Once she was down, he kicked the door as hard as he could.  It swung closed.  Well, as closed as it could before impacting her head.</p><p>Falcon stopped just long enough to hand cuff those two, trusting in his wings to protect him as the other two circled the car on opposing sides.  As they finished flanking him, he pulled two grenades off of his vest, dropped them just outside the car, retracted his wings, and thrusted through the car.  He took the opposite door on his left arm, rolling to absorb the impact.  Then he straightened out into a rather sloppy double axel that would probably have earned him five points in the Olympics, and landed on one foot, one knee, and one hand.  Another deduction.  Sliding to a stop probably wouldn’t have helped either, but sometimes there’s just no accounting for style.   Half a second later the two stun grenades took all the agents into La-La Land.</p><p>He stood back up, activating his radio as he marched back to the car.  “This is Falcon-Wing,” he said, as he walked around the car.  “Got four more, looking for a ride to the slammer.”</p><p>“Get ‘em prepped,” came the reply.  Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes since he was half way through cuffing the last one already.</p><p>“Gee thanks,” he said dryly to himself.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>“You’re welcome Sam,” Steve said with a grin as he drove the armored car up the final turn of the parking garage and onto the roof.  He’d been slightly concerned about the garage handling that much weight, but that gave way to amusement as he heard Falcon realize his mic was on VOX.  “Just get ‘em where they can be picked up,” he added as something red and gold shot past his window, taking his mood with it.  “Extraction is incoming,” he added, pulling to a stop.</p><p>“What are the odds he didn’t see me?” Cap asked himself.  Rhetorical as that question was, it was answered definitively when the suit came back into view and hovered directly in front. </p><p>“Come on out Cap,” Tony Stark said, aiming one of his armored sleeves at the cab.   Steve considered running for it, dismissing that option immediately.  He toyed with the idea of trying to ram the gold suit.  It wouldn’t hurt Tony; but then, it also wouldn’t do much good.  Besides Steve knew that just about anything Stark had in that suit could peel an armored car like a grape, with varyingly sized side effects to said grape’s occupants. </p><p>So, instead of escalating the situation he shut the engine off and sighed.  He closed his eyes as if trying to steel himself for what was coming.  He didn’t want to go out there.  He was tired of being out there.  This man was his friend.  He was getting tired of walking the tight rope.  One of these days, one of them was going to slip.  And there was no net.</p><p>But it couldn’t be helped.  Extraction was at least five minutes away.  So, taking a deep breath he opened the cab door.  “Hi Tony,” he said as he descended the steps “it’s good to see you.</p><p>“He’s been injured on the right side,” Friday (the AI assisting Tony’s suite, not the day) said, highlighting the wound for him.</p><p>“Yeah I see it,” Tony muttered.  “We’re gonna have to improvise.”</p><p>Noting the lack of evasion and aggression Tony opted to land.  “Really Cap?” he asked as his helmet retracted.  “Have you really sunken all the way down to stealing armored cars?”</p><p>“Well,” Cap said with a glance back at the pinging vehicle “it was on my bucket list.”</p><p>“Mine too,” Tony said sarcastically “although I should point out that traditionally one waits until the car is full before taking it.”</p><p>Cap shrugged.  “I filled it with more valuable items,” he said cryptically.</p><p>Tony glanced at the cab and back at Rogers.  “I like the hair,” he said.  “It suits you.  All black opsey or something.”</p><p>“Thanks, how’s the new boss?” he asked pointedly.</p><p>“Oh, you know,” came the response “same as the old boss.”  Steve couldn’t help but grin at that, partially because he actually got the reference for once.  “How’s outlaw life?  I mean aside from taking juvenile joy rides in armored cars, I mean,” Tony said gesturing to the vehicle.</p><p>“This needs to be done, Tony” Steve said, almost pleading with Stark to understand him.  “Why can’t you see that?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Tony said offhandedly, taking a step towards Steve “why can’t you see that you’ve become the thing you’re fighting?”</p><p>“I’m not Hydra,” Steve almost spat.</p><p>“Maybe different goals, but you go about them the same way,” Tony replied taking another step.  “Tell you what,” he added a moment later “let’s just do a quick count.  Assault,” he said starting to tick items off of his armored fingers “illegal entry, violating sovereign borders, kidnapping, destruction of property, and grand theft auto: Armored Car Edition.  Does that about cover it?”</p><p>“I’m trying to keep people safe Tony,” Steve replied.</p><p>“Yeah, Hydra says that too,” Tony replied laconically, as he took another step.</p><p>They both acted at once.  Steve chucked his shield at Tony’s helmet just as his target fired a set of leg restraints.  Steve back flipped out of the way.  Friday took hold of Tony’s other arm and caught the shield.</p><p>“I like the new shield,” Tony said, turning it over in his gauntlets.  The scanner’s in his suit isolated its components and illustrated them on his screen.  “A retractable buckler,” he added approvingly.  He could see how the entire shield folded along its plane into one metal strip.  He suspected that strip was designed to fit on Steve’s gloves.  “You get it from Wakanda?”</p><p>“You don’t expect me to tell you that,” Steve replied guardedly.</p><p>“You know,” Tony said, ignoring that last “There’s a bit of irony in the fact that the King of Wakanda is the very person whose harboring you.  Seeing as how it was the King of Wakanda that pushed The Accords,” he added.</p><p>“That was his father Tony,” Steve said.</p><p>“Still, I bet this shield cost him a pretty penny,” Tony added flipping the shield up and down.  “You probably don’t want to go telling him you lost it.”</p><p>“No, I don’t,” Steve said hitting a button on the inside forearm of the buckler’s harness.  There was a slight, high pitched whine before the shield exploded in a shower of purple energy.  By some twist of fate, the shield careened off of three surfaces and straight back to Cap. </p><p>“One of these days you’re going to have to show me how you do that,” Tony said from where the explosion had slid him.</p><p>“I think it’s kind of like Thor’s hammer,” Steve told him.  “You have to be worthy.”</p><p>“I see,” Tony said, immediately firing three more sets of restraints in a staggered procession.  Cap blocked the first, dodged the second, but the third got one leg and arm.  Unfortunately, it was not the arm holding the shield, and he quickly shattered it.</p><p>Then he threw the shield to ricochet off of a set of cars ending on a trajectory towards Tony, and charged.  They both hit the metal man at the same moment.  Tony blocked the shield with an arm curled to protect his head, and blocked the first punch.  But the second was right on its heels, and aimed right between the eyes.</p><p>Tony stepped back from the blow and instinctively sent a thruster blast at Cap’s leg, sending him off balance.  Then he punched Steve in the chest, sliding him back a couple of feet.  Cap closed again, determined to keep a good showing until evac arrived.  There was a flurry of blows so fast the human eye would only have seen a blur.  Cap maneuvered Tony around until he could grab his shield again.  But as he slid to pick it up Tony sent an arm rocketing at him.  He was just barely able to get the shield up, but the blow still sent him sliding ten feet.</p><p>“You’ve improved,” Steve said, starting to breathe hard.  His side was really starting to bother him.  “Where’s your team?” he asked looking around.</p><p>“They’ll be along,” Tony replied.  “Just sent them to pick up a few delinquents first.”</p><p>“You keep pushing that criminal angle Tony,” Steve answered.  “It’s not going to work.”</p><p>“Come on Cap,” Tony said.  Now it was his turn to plead.  “This has gone on long enough.  Come in voluntarily.  Bring your kidnappees.  I’ve got the best lawyers in the world.  I’m talking six months house arrest and then you’re all back at it officially.”</p><p>“If we sign,” Steve said pointedly.</p><p>“Yes, if you sign,” Stark almost shouted.  “Jesus, and people say I’m stubborn,” he added in frustration.</p><p>“And what then?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Then I can stop chasing you and focus on real threats,” Tony growled.</p><p>“Don’t you see Tony?” Steve asked.  “This is exactly what I was afraid of.  You know there are bigger threats, but they send you to chase us.”</p><p>Tony’s rather irate response was preempted by Friday.  “Boss, some sort of stealth ship rescued Falcon.  Colonel Rhodes is standing watch over their prisoners.”</p><p>“Alright that’s it,” Stark snapped at Cap, thrusting forwards.  “I’m bringing you in.”  Steve dodged out of the way of his outstretched hand.</p><p>“Are we really bringing him in?” Friday asked uncertainly.</p><p>“Maybe,” Tony replied thrusting around and shooting a buried water main.  “I haven’t decided.”   Water jetted from the new crevice directly at Cap.  As he fought to keep his balance Tony hit him from the other side.  There was a quick exchange, but before they could really get going a blast of blue energy hit Tony right in the helmet.</p><p>He lurched back just as Scott expanded with an uppercut that sent him, suit and all, flying.</p><p>“Sorry we’re late,” Widow smirked, joining the other two.</p><p>“Yeah, there was just this web of traffic,” Lang added.</p><p>“Where’s the guy that made it?” Steve said just as a well-aimed web bolt stuck Nat’s blaster arm to her face.</p><p>“Geez, those stunners hurt,” Spiderman said from his perch on a rail.  “Cap could you tell her to not hit me in the face with that thing?” Spidey asked.  “I’ve got a chem. final next week and I can barely-”</p><p>“-kid, just cool it,” Tony cut in, hovering from where he’d recovered from Lang’s sucker uppercut.</p><p>“Oh, right,” Spidey said, halting himself “I gotta work on that.”</p><p>“Son of a bitch,” Widow cursed as she yanked a knife out of its sheathe and began to cut her hand free.</p><p>“You know, I’m not exactly a math major,” Lang said, filling in the ensuing awkward silence “but it seems like you’re a touch outnumbered.”</p><p>“Well, quality over quantity, I always say,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Tony, I have never heard-” Cap started, before Nat cut him off.</p><p>“-um, who’s that?” she asked looking past Tony.</p><p>“Please, don’t stop your sibling squabbles on my account,” Steven (Dr., aka Mister, aka Master) Strange said as he slowly floated down from the portal he’d opened.  A moment later Thor appeared, in urban attire, and plummeted fifteen feet straight down to the roof.</p><p>He landed in a crouch and glared up at that which had so recently reacquainted him with gravity’s heartless nature.  “Wizard, if you continue these games, I will crush your head,” he growled</p><p>“That <em>never</em> gets old,” Strange said with a little smile, completely ignoring Thor.</p><p>“Steven,” Tony said, “mind lending a hand here?”</p><p>Strange made a show of considering that request.  “I don’t think so, Tony,” he said, still grinning “It’s far more fun to watch.”</p><p>“Thanks for all the help,” Tony said with a small rueful smile of his own.  Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved by the wizard’s refusal.</p><p>“Oh no problem,” Strange replied in mock sincerity.  “Oh, and speaking of helping,” he added “how’s that item I gave you coming along?”</p><p>“Boss,” Friday cut in again “that stealth ship picked up Wanda and Clint.  Vision is-”</p><p>“Yeah Vision is guarding their prisoners,” Tony muttered.</p><p>“Probability assessment suggest they are heading here,” she added.</p><p>“You know, I really don’t have time to talk about it now,” Tony said to Strange irately.</p><p>“Of course, you’re a busy man,” Strange replied coolly.  “What say I meet you in your lab in say,” he said, pausing to consult his broken watch “six hours?”</p><p>“Fine,” Tony growled.</p><p>“Then I’ll let you get back to your childish quarrel,” he said.</p><p>“Nice seeing you Steven,” Tony said, somehow managing to convey the opposite.</p><p>“Always a pleasure, Tony,” Strange shot back.  “God of Thunder,” he added with a head dip before floating backwards into the portal.</p><p>“Tony, who was that,” Steve asked.</p><p>“Now!” Tony yelled.  Peter immediately webbed Lang to Widow.  As Lang tried to shrink it yanked Nat onto him.</p><p>“Little fucker!” Widow snapped cutting yet another cord.</p><p>“Kid enough with the bondage stuff,” Tony said, sounding more amused than anything else, as he fired a mini bola at Cap’s legs.  “Just keep Cap busy for me.”</p><p>“Right Mr. Stark,” Peter said, leaping at the chance for a round two.  Suddenly the entire roof was in chaos.</p><p>And in the middle of it was Thor looking more and more confused.  “Tony, what is going on,” he asked.</p><p>Instead of answers he got an introduction.  “Hey, you’re Thor right,” Lang said after expanding to normal size in front of him.</p><p>“Um yes,” Thor said.</p><p>“Oh, I am a big, big fan,” Lang said pumping Thor’s hand a bit too enthusiastically, as they ducked an errant body.  “You know, I’ve wanted to meet you for some time.  Where’ve you been?”</p><p>“Um,” Thor started “who are you?”</p><p>“Oh sorry, I’m Ant-Man,” Lang replied, gaining a stony look from the Asgardian. “Because I can shrink to the size of an ant,” he explained.  “I can also expand.  My record’s sixty-five feet.”</p><p>“I see,” Thor said sounding less than impressed.  “So that’s it?  You can change size?” he asked as they sidestepped Ironman.</p><p>“And I can control insects,” Lang added still shaking his hand.</p><p>“Well that’s a formidable army,” Thor replied, trying to sound nice.</p><p>“It’s cooler than it sounds,” Lang said thinking that was going to be his mantra.  “You know, the kid’s called Spiderman and everyone thinks that’s cool,” he added.</p><p>“Yes, but don’t spiders eat ants?” Thor asked.</p><p>Lang’s response was rudely interrupted as Widow yelled “Scott you mind keeping your head in the game?”</p><p>“Oh, right,” Lang said.  “Great to meet you and all,” he added as he shrank again.  Thor got a firsthand look at the value of being small as Lang jumped into Spidey’s chest sending the kid flying.</p><p>Unfortunately for Lang, Thor had a point.  Spidey was only airborne for a second before he twisted around, webbed Lang, and used it as a sling to launch the tiny terror off of the roof.</p><p>Fortunately for Lang, that just happened to be where the stealth jet had taken up residence.  It decloaked, loading ramp already down, just as Lang sailed right between Clint and Wanda.</p><p>“Time to go,” Clint yelled, hitting Tony in the chest with an arrow.  There was a brief arc of electricity and the suit fell to the ground.  Wanda caught him and lowered him down gently.  “That’s only gonna slow him down for a couple seconds,” Clint added as Wanda launched Spiderman off the building.</p><p>“That surge knocked out our flight systems and weapons,” Friday reported.  “Breakers are resetting now.”</p><p>“No rush,” Tony muttered from where Wanda had set him.  He was certain that she’d deliberately left him on his face with his ass sticking into the air.</p><p>“Welcome back Thor,” Cap said, giving him a clap on the shoulder in passing.</p><p>“Thanks,” Thor said holding a finger up, as if he had a question.</p><p>“Great to see you Thor,” Nat said as she passed him.</p><p>“Uh, yeah,” Thor said.  “Great to see you too . . .”</p><p>“Systems reinitialized,” Friday reported.</p><p>“You know,” Tony said as he removed himself from that undignified position, “there’s such a thing as too efficient, Friday.”</p><p>“Tony,” Wanda yelled from the back of the Wakandan stealth ship, “would you please stop sending Vision to apprehend me?”</p><p>“Thor,” Tony said out loud as he aimed an arm at one of the jet’s thrusters.  The stealth shield was making it an issue, but his sensors were still picking up enough for an educated guess. “I need you to knock me into that building.”</p><p>The confused look on Thor’s face intensified as that request registered.  He looked from Tony to the getaway vehicle and back.  For a second Tony was afraid he wouldn’t do it.  But as Thor heard the charge building in the suit’s arm capacitors, he suddenly backhanded Tony into the building next door.</p><p>“Next time, Tony,” Stark said to himself as he slowly climbed out of the indent his short flight had made “use the word ‘gently’.”</p><p>“It’s only a few minor abrasions,” Friday chided him.  “The suit’s healing protocols are almost done.”  Tony didn’t reply.</p><p>“I don’t suppose you could explain what that was all about,” Thor said as Tony landed back on the roof.</p><p>“Just a second,” Tony said making a beeline for the armored car.</p><p>“Tony,” Thor said rather forcefully.</p><p>“Hey, it’s a six-hour flight back to headquarters,” Tony replied as he reached the back of the car.  “I like the hair by the way,” he added.  Then he opened the van.  Inside were five rather ruffled looking men wearing the latest in leg and arm restraints from Wakanda.</p><p>“Cap’s been getting soft,” Tony stated, noting the lack of serious injuries.</p><p>Thor joined him, peering into the van.  “More Hydra Operatives?” he asked.</p><p>“Yep,” Tony replied noting a rather beat up Hyundai Elantra parked nearby.  There were several men who appeared to be struggling to get out of the car while hog tied.  He fired a mini missile at it.  As the missile reached the car it was bathed in an electric glow, and the struggling stopped.  “Friday, let’s get these fine gentlemen and their associates boarded,” he said.</p><p>“The transport is already inbound from the last pickup location,” Friday replied.</p><p>“Any of our team get lucky out there?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Afraid not Boss,” Friday replied.  “By the way,” she added “how much longer do you think you can milk sending Vision to apprehend Wanda?”  Tony’s face tightened momentarily at that but he didn’t respond.</p><p>“Tony, would you please tell me what’s going on,” Thor asked clearly attempting to restrain his frustration.</p><p>“Yeah sure,” Tony said snapping out of whatever thought processes Friday’s question had started.  “Just help me get these guys loaded first.”</p><p>“Loaded onto what?” he asked just as an advanced Stark style stealth jet the size of a P-3 Orion lifted itself above the parking garage.  The rear loading ramp was down, with Vision and War Machine waiting at the edge.</p><p>“Well,” Thor said slowly “it’s certainly bigger.”</p><p>“The armored car and the blue Hyundai,” Tony said over the radio.  They flew out of the ship.  Vision headed for the Hyundai while War Machine took the armored car.  But instead of simply retrieving the men encased in the vehicles they simply picked them up and flew them back to the ship.</p><p>“Friday could you tilt the ship forward twenty degrees?” Rhodes asked.  A moment later the ship’s nose pitched downward.  Rhodes tilted the armored car, rolling five rather panicked men from it into the carrier.  The ship returned to its normal orientation and Rhodes returned the armored car to the roof.</p><p>“You enjoyed that a bit too much Colonel Rhodes,” Vision chastised as he shifted his grip to support the car under his right arm.  He ripped a door off with his left and began plucking the men out of it and tossing them into the ship.</p><p>“Gotta get your kicks where you can Vision,” Rhody replied from the roof.  “Besides, getting the shit scared out of you helps develop character.”</p><p>“Nice to see you Thor,” Rhodes said as he flew by Tony and Thor.  “I’m driving,” he added before flying into the ship and heading forward.</p><p>“Fine, I have some catching up to do with Thor anyway,” Tony called after him.</p><p>“Whenever you two are ready,” Vision said as he dropped the car on the roof and followed.</p><p>“After you,” Tony said holding an arm towards the craft.  Thor stepped forward and jumped the twenty feet to the ramp.</p><p>“Showoff,” Tony said, following.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. It's Strange</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Interstellar Space</p><p>En Route to Knowhere</p><p> </p><p>Nebula could hear another argument in progress from the bridge.  Normally she’d have just tuned it out, but she needed information.  So, despite the headache all that idiocy was bound to cause, she activated the security cam in the lounge.</p><p>It showed the entire team present.  That in itself wasn’t that unusual; they tended to have their club meetings while she had the watch.  She hadn’t decided if they couldn’t figure out that she had access to the surveillance system or simply didn’t care.  Maybe they just didn’t want her intruding upon their constant arguing.  Whatever it was, she was fine with simply listening for those little nuggets of useful information.</p><p>“All I’m saying is that I should be the one to talk to The Collector,” Quill was saying.  It was clear from the sound of his voice that the others had other ideas on that topic.</p><p>“I don’t know why we’re even talking about this,” Rocket argued.  “He’s not gonna give us this Aether thing anyways.”</p><p>“We just have to make him realize we’re his only hope,” she heard Gamora say.  Nebula couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the arrogant optimism in that statement.</p><p>“Right,” Quill agreed, “and like I was saying; I’m the best person for the job.”</p><p>“Why are you the best person?” Drax asked, sounding slightly offended.</p><p>“Because my vocabulary consists of more than laughing as I disembowel people,” Quill replied.</p><p>“Oh please,” Rocket replied “I can be as eloquent as the next guy.”</p><p>“Eloquent huh?” Quill replied disbelievingly.</p><p>“It means very, very-” the upright raccoon started before being interrupted.</p><p>“-I know what eloquent means,” Quill shouted.</p><p>“You just interrupted me,” Rocket shouted.  “That’s the opposite of eloquent.  That’s . . . that’s,” he trailed off.</p><p>“I am Groot,” the tree monster said.</p><p>“Rude,” he agreed.  “Thanks Groot.”</p><p>“Peter,” Gamora said forcefully, stopping Starlord’s angry retort, “it should be all of us.”</p><p>“Great,” Peter replied “we can threaten, reason with, schmooze, confuse, comfort, and antagonize him all at once.”  As he spoke his hand moved around the room, pointing out the most likely member of the party to utilize each tactic.</p><p>“It does not matter which of you speaks or what you say,” Nebula said to herself, voice dripping condescension. “Taneleer Tivan will never willingly hand over an Infinity Stone.”</p><p>“Why don’t you just steal it oh master of thieves,” Rocket asked.</p><p>“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Quill said.</p><p>“No, Peter,” Gamora said, cutting that thought off before it had a chance to sprout.  “Tivan has some of the best security in the galaxy.  If he catches us, we lose all other options.</p><p>“Okay, but I’m just saying it would be good to have a backup plan,” Peter conceded.</p><p> </p><p>Nebula switched the audio off.  She’d gotten what she wanted and, as expected, the stupidity of it all was enough to cause a headache.  They were actually going to go hat in hand and ask The Collector for an Infinity Stone.  Ask him!  Like he’d just hand it over.  The hardest part to understand was that Gamora seemed to think it was a good idea.  The others were idiots, but she should have known better.  She just couldn’t understand how her sister had changed so much.</p><p>But, in a way, their own idiocy could be made to work for her.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>“Fox,” Nebula said as she ascended the stairs to the cockpit. </p><p>“For the last time you raging blue psycho,” Rocket snapped with vehemence “I am not a fox.  How would you like it if I ran around calling you Eggplant?  Or blueberry?  Or Unimate?  How would you feel if I called you scrap metal?” he yelled.  And he kept yelling.  More epithets, and imagined insults, and weird analogies.  It was actually kind of impressive how he could find so many connections to ‘blue chick with a robot arm’. </p><p>And through it all Nebula just waited.  She really didn’t care what he thought of her, and she didn’t understand insults.  Why anyone would get upset over a collection of words baffled her.  It was like they thought words were magical.  She knew magic.  She’d been on its sharp end far too often.  Words were just . . . words.  And, the irony that the more intelligent a person was the more words upset them was almost enough to be amusing to her.</p><p>Eventually he ran down.  “What do you want?” Rocket finally asked. </p><p>“You know The Collector will never willingly give up an Infinity Stone,” she said.</p><p>“Yeah?” Rocket asked.</p><p>“And you’re still just going to go ask for it?” she asked with just a sprinkling of condescension flavoring her voice.</p><p>“Hey, I already tried stealing from people who’d kill me if I got caught once.  I’m not putting up with that amount of whining again.”</p><p>“But you know the stone will not be given.  It must be taken,” she said.</p><p>“What’s your point?” Rocket asked.</p><p>“What if you stole it without stealing it?” she asked.</p><p>“What does that even mean?” Rocket asked in frustration.</p><p>“The Collector will be distracted while you make your plea,” she explained.  “If you could clone the wireless pass-key he keeps on himself, I can retrieve the stone.”</p><p>Rocket squinted at her in surprise that she would suggest such an insane plan.  “You’re crazier than I thought,” he declared.  “Managing to get access to his key without his security system vaporizing me is hard enough.  But even if I succeed, I guarantee you he’s using one of the Milsper 10220 series keys which means only he can use it.  So first you’d need the same key.  Then, even if I could get through his security, you’d somehow have to make it think you were a middle-aged whack-job with delusions of grandeur.”</p><p>Nebula pulled a small device out of a pocket.   “This is the key he uses,” she told him.  “Just get me the data and I’ll handle the rest.”</p><p>Rocket stared from the key back to her.  “You’ve been planning this for a while,” he said at last.</p><p>“It wasn’t my first choice,” she said pocketing the key again.</p><p>“What was?” Rocket asked.  “Oh, let me guess,” he continued with a slight sneer “kill him, swap your key with his and take the stone?”  Now it was her turn to look surprised.  “What you don’t think I know you?” Rocket asked as she refused to respond.  “You think you’re the only one here who knows the pain of being ripped apart and put back together like your body parts were accessories?”  She didn’t answer.</p><p>Rocket considered her for another moment.  It was crazy of course, but not as crazy as some of his other plans.  And she’d be risking far more than him.  “Fine,” he said eventually “I’ll do it.”</p><p>“Good,” was all she said before turning to go.</p><p>“And I won’t mention what plan A was,” he added as he turned back forward.</p><p>She took two more steps before turning back to him.  “One more thing . . . Rocket,” she said.</p><p>“Yeah, what’s that?” he asked managing to sound both bored and cranky at the same time.</p><p>“I secured the Spirit Stone at great risk,” she told him.  “And you and your band of half-wits led Maw straight to it.”</p><p>“Technically, he already knew where it was,” Rocket said swiveling to meet her stony glare.  “We just cleared your pathetic excuse for security out for him.”</p><p>Nebula ignored it.  “The Aether is mine,” she said with a clear undercurrent of threat in her voice.  When he didn’t respond immediately, she turned and left.</p><p>“Yeah, we’ll see you crazy bitch,” he said almost to himself.  A casual observer could have been excused if they were unable to tell if his tone was more condescending or approving.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>New Avengers Facility</p><p>Upstate New York, NA</p><p>Earth</p><p>“Yeah sure,” Tony said to Colonel Rhodes as they and Thor approached the main conference room.  They were moving a bit slower than usual to accommodate the languid pace of Rhodes’s exoskeleton.  “This is a process,” Tony assured him, adding a clap on the shoulder for good measure.  “Just give me a couple of minutes, and then come get me.”</p><p>“Gotcha,” Rhodes said, peeling off towards the break room.</p><p>“And I thought I was tough,” Thor said as they both watched him make his way down the hall.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony replied, tone more in regret than awe.  “Anyway, you ready to do this?”</p><p>“I must tell you this all seems weird,” Thor said as Tony opened the door.</p><p>“Tony,” Secretary of Defense Ross said before he’d completely entered the room.  Seeing who would get the first word in had become something of a game with them.  “You care to explain how you managed to fail to bring Captain Rogers and his team in yet again?”</p><p>“Um, I don’t know,” Tony replied as he headed for a chair “divine intervention?”  He gestured at Thor following behind him.  They were the only three people in the room.</p><p>“Yes, I’m aware of Thor’s . . . timely intervention, on the behalf of Captain Rogers,” Ross replied, clearly skeptical.  “Thor,” he continued, addressing the Asgardian “I realize that you aren’t a citizen of Earth, and as such not subject to The Accords, but I have to ask you not to interfere with our laws.”</p><p>“Um, yeah,” Thor replied, suddenly less sure than he’d been a minute ago of what was going on.  Tony had explained the accords on the long trip over.  He had to admit he didn’t fully understand the resulting blow up. </p><p>And Tony’s behavior only added to the confusion.  Tony spoke in favor of these accords, yet let Rogers go when he had the chance to apprehend his entire force.  Clearly, he didn’t want Ross to know he’d let them go.  Thor tried to sneak a glance at Tony, but all he could get was a sense that the inventor was nervous.  “Sorry about that,” he said finally, looking back to Ross.</p><p>Ross held his gaze for another second, as if attempting to gauge the validity of Thor’s apology before turning back to Stark.  “So, do you have any good news about this latest debacle?” he asked.</p><p>“Well,” Tony started “we did capture several Hydra operatives.  Looks like a couple of them are pretty high ranking.  They’re being transferred to interrogation as we speak.”</p><p>“Your objective is not Hydra,” Ross replied forcefully.  “Your task is to bring Captain Rogers and his team to justice.  Now, why did you let your team guard those operatives rather than have them assist you with that goal?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, are you suggesting that the world would be better off if those goons were allowed to roam free instead of Steve?” Tony asked innocently.  At this point Thor did his best to shrink into his seat, not an easy task for someone his size.  He felt as if he’d come over to a friend’s house just in time to watch said friend’s parents fight.</p><p>“There are other people tasked with apprehending members of the illegal organization known as Hydra,” Ross shot back.  “Hell, the police could have watched them for you in the short term.”</p><p>“So, our only concern is apprehending the Dark Avengers?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Ross replied vehemently.</p><p>“But if that’s all we’re here for it seems a mistake to catch them,” Tony replied sarcastically.  “I mean, I like job security as much as the next man.”</p><p>“Dammit Tony this is serious!” Ross bellowed.  He took a breath and continued in a more moderated tone.  “I am trying to keep you from digging your own grave, but you just won’t put down the shovel.”</p><p>Tony’s reply (however witty it might have been) was preempted by Colonel Rhodes’ entrance.  “Dammit Tony you’ve got to fix this,” he said as if completely unaware of the rest of the room’s occupants.  “It keeps shocking me.  See, there it goes again.”  He looked up, paused as he saw Ross. “Sorry about this Secretary Ross,” he added.</p><p>“Right, I know just how to fix it,” Tony said, jumping out of his chair.</p><p>“Tony, we’re not done,” Ross said, standing up.</p><p>“No, I got it,” Tony said as he crossed the room.  “You read me the riot act.  Let the Hydra agents go and all that.  Oh,” he added, stopping momentarily “does that policy start now, or should I let the Hydra agents we just obtained go?”</p><p>“Dammit Tony that’s not what I said,” Ross growled.  “Come back here.”</p><p>“Sorry Boss,” Stark replied.  “You know, at Stark industries, customer service is our number one priority,” he added, managing to talk his way across the room and out the door.  A moment later the door popped open again, admitting Tony’s head.  “By the way Thor here’s got an issue that dwarfs Hydra agents and rogue Avengers combined,” he added and was gone.</p><p>Ross glared after him for a few seconds before shaking his head.  “God, he is so much like his father,” he said to himself, with what some might have argued was a very slight grin on his face.</p><p>“You knew Tony’s father?” Thor asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Ross replied sadly, still looking at the door.  “I knew them both,” he added with obvious pain in his voice.  “I only hope he can avoid their fate.  Anyway,” he added, sitting down and swiveling towards Thor “what exactly is this pressing issue that dwarfs our problems?”</p><p>“The end of the universe,” Thor stated cryptically.</p><p>“That kind of statement usually comes with some sort of explanation,” Ross noted.</p><p>“Yes,” Thor said hesitantly.  He thought about delaying the issue -a lot had changed while he’d been gone trying to avert this catastrophe- but there just wasn’t any time.  “But honestly,” he continued “I’d hoped to be able to draw on the resources of all of the Avengers.”</p><p>“Unfortunately, that’s not possible,” Ross replied slowly.  “When Captain Rogers is apprehended, he will be held under house arrest pending a military court martial.”</p><p>Thor nodded, wondering again what the hell had happened while he was gone.  It was like the entire planet had gone insane.  “Why do you keep calling Steve, Captain Rogers?” he asked suddenly.  “I would think he wasn’t a captain anymore.”</p><p>“Because, until he’s gone through the process, he is still a captain in the United States military, and he will be accorded the respect he’s earned,” Ross said surprisingly.</p><p>“And yet you don’t trust him?” Thor asked.</p><p>“The Accords were never about trust,” Ross replied.  “It was about working within the current political climate.  The fact that an independent, American funded, mainly American team was operating without oversight all over the world resurrected some bad history.  Without international oversight the entire world would have blown up in their faces.”</p><p>“What bad history?” Thor asked.</p><p>Ross winced.  “You had to ask didn’t you,” he said.  Thor waited.  “Alright,” Ross continued “the long and short of it is that just over a half century ago the United States embarked upon a policy of foreign manipulation via political assassination.  The CIA had a number of ‘death squads’ that would operate with impunity in any country in the world.  They would routinely assassinate any leader that wasn’t friendly to the US and attempt to install friendly dictators.”</p><p>“That’s a terrible policy,” Thor said, taken aback.</p><p>“Yes, it is,” Ross replied darkly.  “And it did our country far more harm than good.  But realizing that now does not change what happened.  Nor can it change the fear of any similar behavior.”</p><p>“And by placing The Avengers under the command of this UN, whatever that is, you believe you can restore the Earth’s faith in them?” Thor asked.</p><p>“Having a chain of command that is answerable to a higher authority ensures cooperation and trust,” Ross replied forcefully. </p><p>Thor thought about that for a second.  “And Steve was worried about Hydra gaining control of them again,” he said, almost to himself. </p><p>“For whatever reason, Captain Rogers refused see the writing on the wall,” Ross said.  “And for that he became an outlaw.”</p><p>“Because he wouldn’t submit to your authority?” Thor asked.</p><p>“Thor, your father is a king, right?” Ross said.  “What would he do if someone under his authority decided they would go where they wanted, do what they wanted, and damn the consequences?”</p><p>Thor paused momentarily before responding.  Partly out of simple grief at the mere mention of his father.  He thought about telling Ross his father was dead, but it didn’t feel like the right time.  Besides, Thor wasn’t sure if he could trust him.</p><p>But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t right.  Thor knew intimately just how Odin would react to the person Ross had mentioned.  He’d been that person.  He wasn’t sure if Ross had been aware of the circumstances leading to Thor’s first trip to Earth in the modern age or not; in the end it didn’t matter if the question was a deliberate reminder or not.</p><p>“I see,” Thor said at last.</p><p>“Good,” Ross replied.  “Now tell me about this urgent mission Tony mentioned.”</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“Tony, I’m not doing that again,” Rhodes said as they entered Tony’s lab.  That room and the accompanying suit vault were the only rooms in the entire complex not bugged.  Tony had been adamant that no one have access to his technology, and Friday ensured it.</p><p>“Sure you will,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Dammit Tony, I hate when you do that,” Rhodes replied in aggravation.</p><p>“What, be right?” Tony asked, leading him over to one end of the lab.  Rhodes didn’t reply, probably because he knew his friend was right.  He was, after all, the only person in the world Tony trusted completely; the only one he knew without a doubt he could count on.  Rhodes would never betray that trust. </p><p>“Friday, how’re we doing?” Tony asked when Rhodes didn’t respond.</p><p>“Fabrication completed seven hours ago,” Friday’s electronic voice said, filling the large room. </p><p>“I guess we can skip the grand unveiling,” Tony replied.  “Open her up.”  At his command a metal locker set in the wall unlocked and opened.  As the center parted into three separate sections it revealed what appeared to be nothing more than a pair of black running shoes and a set of thick black leggings with grey highlights making long swoops around them. </p><p>But, as they moved laboriously closer, Rhodes realized two things.  One: the fabric was thicker than the average 20-year-old jogger’s.  And two: that those grey swoops were actually bulges, as if very thin wires were coursing their way along the suit.</p><p>“Gee Tony,” Rhodes said sarcastically “I don’t know what to say.  I guess all that comes to mind is that I’m not a twenty-year-old female jogger.”  Tony grinned at that but remained quiet.  “Can we fix my exo-walker now?” Rhodes asked.</p><p>“That is your exo-walker,” Tony replied seriously.  “You are looking at the world’s first artificial muscle.  Guess I’ll have to redesign all of my suits,” he added.  “The pants will conform to your legs and act as motor assist units.  There’s an impulse scanner in the back of the waistband that will track your nerve impulses and translate them into movement.  They’re completely washable.  Plus, it’ll fit under normal pants,” he added.  “I mean, who wants to see you in tights anyways?” he added.</p><p>“What powers it?” Rhodes asked, taking a lumbering step closer.</p><p>“There are batteries in the shoes,” Tony replied.  “They should be good for four or five hours.  I should be able to increase that.  Oh, and Friday is currently modifying your suit to charge them.”</p><p>“Tony,” Rhodes said, blinking back tears.  It was more than he’d ever dreamed of.  More than he’d thought possible.</p><p>“Oh, and the best part,” Tony said, stepping up to the unit and pressing a pair of buttons hidden in the waistband.  As he pushed the first button the fabric covering the pelvic area retracted.  The second retracted the fabric on the opposite side.  Rhodes glanced at Tony as if to say ‘really?’.  Tony shrugged.  “I got tired of helping you go to the bathroom.”  Rhodes just grinned.</p><p>“When will you learn that technology is not the answer to every problem?” a deeper voice said from behind them.</p><p>“You know, I distinctly remember telling you to knock from now on,” Tony said in irritation, turning to the new visitor.  Doctor Strange didn’t respond, instead focusing on the colonel’s midsection.  He could see the elaborate array of muscles, bone, sinew, nerves, and organs as if viewing a real time video comprised from multiple different scanners.  He could see where the crushed vertebrae had been replaced, where the nerves had been cut.  He could see how some inept ‘surgeon’ had tied them together as if mending fishing line.  He could see how the nerve ends had atrophied, blocking signal.</p><p>“Tony who’s this?” Rhodes asked sounding slightly defensive.</p><p>“Oh, I’m terribly sorry Colonel Rhodes,” Strange said, striding over to them with his hand out.  “My name is Doctor Steven Strange.  I, uh . . . I actually had the opportunity to work on you . . . just before my own accident,” he said as he reached them, hand still out for a shake.</p><p>“Oh,” Rhodes replied.  “Well, Steve is it, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stare at my waist like it was made of chocolate,” Rhodes replied, taking his hand.</p><p>“Of course,” Strange replied “that was quite rude of me.”  Then he sent a wave of mystic energy through Rhodes’s body, targeted on the fissure in his nervous system.</p><p>“Ahhh,” Rhodes yelled in pain as Strange continued sending tendrils of mystic energy through his arm and down his torso to the injury.  The tendrils encompassed the broken endings, pulling them apart and rewiring them the correct way, fusing them together.  Rhodes tried to pull away but Strange’s grip wouldn’t release him.  He couldn’t even fall because his exo-walker was currently locked.</p><p>“What?” Tony asked before swinging at the master of the mystic arts; a blow that was easily parried by his cloak.  The parry sent Stark stumbling to the opposite side of the struggle.  “Friday,” Tony said.</p><p>“On it, boss,” the room replied.  The doors to the vault opened and pieces of a suite of armor came flying towards Stark. </p><p>“No,” Strange said raising his free hand towards the pieces, palm up with the forefinger and thumb in the shape of an L.  A portal suddenly flared into existence between Tony and his armor.  As they passed through it a second portal appeared, causing the pieces to fly out of one and into the next.</p><p>“Stop it!” Tony yelled as Rhodes continued to groan in pain, clutching his midsection with his free hand.  The colonel tried a desperate swing at his tormentor, with no better results than Tony had achieved.</p><p>“Trust me colonel,” Strange said simply, as if that explained what was going on.</p><p>Fortunately, Friday had played Portal; she quickly sent all the pieces in random directions arcing around the original trap.  Strange managed to catch a boot piece in another portal momentarily before the AI adjusted again.</p><p>“This is your last warning, Strange,” Tony said, now encased in his armor.  He had every piece of weaponry in the armor trained on the doctor. </p><p>“Now, you have exactly half a second to explain what the hell you’re doing,” Tony growled.</p><p>“I’m afraid it would take longer than that,” Strange replied sarcastically.  In response a flurry of flechettes launched from Tony’s shoulder blades at the doctor. </p><p>The mystic calmly raised his hand, opening another portal that sent the flying shrapnel into space.  Tony fired a missile to the right of the portal, while flying to its left.  The missile arced around the portals, targeting the good doctor’s rear as Tony prepared a double repulsor blast assault from the front.  Classic pincer tactic.</p><p>At the last second Strange released Rhodes and flew straight up, giving Stark a fine view of his name on the missile that was now heading straight for him.  Rhodes collapsed to the ground as Tony adjusted his aim to destroy the missile, but stopped himself from firing; Rhodes’s proximity made destroying it risky to say the least.  The odds were even that such a move would detonate the payload even though Tony had disabled it prior to launch.  Instead, he accepted the impending hit and fired two staggered repulsor blasts at Strange.  Strange dodged the first, straight into the second.  The two combatants got hit simultaneously.</p><p>The repulsor blast knocked Strange back ten feet in the air before he stabilized.  The missile hit Tony right in the chest.  The energy imparted was enough to force the suit into a backflip.  Tony landed in a crouch, one hand on the ground, and the other up for balance.</p><p>“You don’t really think you can kill a wizard with that stuff, do you?” Strange asked, with just a flavor of condescension in his voice.</p><p>“I only need one shot,” Tony growled, preparing to thrust himself directly at the hovering man.  He knew he’d open a portal to stop him, but if Tony could maneuver around it, he could use its very existence as cover.  The arrogant bastard wouldn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.</p><p>“Tony stop!” Rhodes yelled from where he was sitting on the floor, just before the suited man could launch.   “Stop,” Rhodes repeated, looking down at his shoeless feet.  Tony followed his gaze.  The suit magnified the object of his interest, revealing that the colonel’s toes, wiggling ever so slightly.</p><p>Tony disarmed the suit’s weapon systems and walked dumbfounded, over to his friend.  The helmet retracted so he could see the miracle with his own eyes.  Rhodes was close to tears.  Tony couldn’t say he was far from it himself.</p><p>“How?” he managed to croak.</p><p>“I realigned the nerves and . . . coaxed them into regenerating,” Strange replied, alighting next to Stark.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tony said, reviewing current events.</p><p>“It would have been difficult with the half second provided,” Steven replied dryly.  Tony turned a glare on him that would blister paint.</p><p>“And what about before you started?” Rhodes asked pointedly.  “Not that I’m ungrateful or anything,” he added hastily.</p><p>“Would you really have let me use some form of voodoo magic to heal your nerves?” Strange replied in kind.</p><p>Rhodes thought about that.  “Probably not,” he admitted finally.  Strange made a hand gesture that said ‘and so’.  Rhodes started laughing.  It started as a chuckle, but continued escalating.  In no time it all Rhodes was laughing so hard he could barely sit up.  The tears began falling.</p><p>Tony wasn’t sure to if he should be concerned or not.  It wasn’t hard to see that a great weight had been lifted from his friend’s shoulders, but this was bordering on manic laughter.  And he didn’t get the joke.</p><p>Finally, Rhodes calmed enough to see the concern on his friend’s face.  “It’s an old soldier’s joke Tony,” he explained.  “It’s better to ask forgiveness than permission,” he said. </p><p>The good doctor grimaced at that statement, but covered it by offering a hand to the sitting soldier.  Tony was quick to emulate his motion.  Between the two of them they were able to right Rhodes and his walker.</p><p>“The one thing I don’t understand,” Rhodes added fixing his gaze on Strange “is why.”</p><p>Strange looked at him for a moment before glancing away.  “Let’s just say I have my reasons,” he said noncommittally.  “Anyway,” he added changing the subject “you’re nerve cells are still weak, and you’ll have to relearn how to use them.  I recommend you start physical therapy immediately.  Otherwise, keep wearing the walker for the time being.  You’ll also need large daily doses of several vitamins.  I can give you a list.”</p><p>“Research shows that lipoic acid, acetyl-l-carnitine, inositol, as well as vitamins B6 and B12 in the proper doses promotes nerve regeneration,” Friday stated.</p><p>“Well, that’s . . . correct,” Strange said, clearly shocked that a room would know so much about medicine.</p><p>“I can create the vitamins once the base components have arrived,” Friday continued.  “They should be here in three to five hours, or our money back.  Do you recommend two or four doses daily, doctor?”</p><p>“Uh . . . let’s do three with food for now,” Strange replied.</p><p>“Excellent,” Friday replied in a tone of voice that suggested that was what she’d planned all along.  She was getting clever, the little minx.  “I’ve also alerted Doctor Cho that we will need a physical therapist.  She is on her way here now.”</p><p>“Great Friday,” Tony said gratefully.  “Tell her to spare no expense.”</p><p>“I already have,” Friday replied just a touch smugly.</p><p>“Doctor Helen Cho?” Strange said, perking up.</p><p>“You know her?” Tony asked.</p><p>“No, but her reputation is as great as mine once was,” Strange replied.  “It might be worth sticking around to meet her,” he added.  “I’d love to just talk shop for a change.”</p><p>“You mean show off,” Tony corrected him.  Strange shrugged noncommittally.  “Fine, just so long as you make yourself useful,” Tony replied.</p><p>“No problem,” Strange replied, uncharacteristically candid.  “It’s been some time since I’ve been able to just be a doctor.  Although I can’t say therapy has ever been my specialty.”</p><p>“Great,” Tony said.  He found himself staring at Rhodes’s legs in sheer wonder.</p><p>“Tony,” Rhodes said, snapping him out of it “do you have to make everything weird?”  The accompanying grin took all the bite out of the statement.</p><p>“You know I think we still have the parallel bars you used to train on the exo,” Tony said walking over to a closet and opening them.  “Not sure why I kept them really,” he added, as he grabbed the rack and began hauling it across the floor.   A moment later a group of flying armored hands flew over, gripped the rail, and slid it over to Rhodes.  It had barely stopped before he grabbed the rails and hoisted himself up to it.</p><p>“Thanks Friday,” Tony said.</p><p>“No problem Boss,” she replied.</p><p>“I’m really not sure you should be doing that so soon,” Strange objected.  “Oh, alright,” he added to the look of sheer disappointment that had flashed across Rhodes’s face.  “But use the walker with it for the first week at least,” he added.</p><p>“Sure doc,” Rhodes said, and immediately took his first step.  His foot wobbled all over the place as his atrophied muscles fought the walker unit.  Rhodes caught himself on the bars with the ease of long practice and tried again.  This time was no better, but he refused to despair, instead picking himself up and trying again.  And again, and again.</p><p>“Boss,” Friday said, somewhere along the tenth time one of his spectators had been required to intercede “the remotes have reached the ship and begun scanning.”</p><p>“Thanks Friday,” Tony said turning to Strange.  “Can you handle this?” he asked the wizard.</p><p>“Sure,” Strange said still watching Rhodes.</p><p><br/>“Thanks,” Tony said clapping him on the shoulder.  “And thank you Steven,” he added.</p><p>“Sure,” Strange said again, refusing to look over at him, as his characteristic embarrassment in such situations took hold. </p><p>“Alright Friday,” Tony said as he strode to the other side of the bay “let’s see what we’ve got.”</p><p>He’d been at for nearly half an hour when Thor finally found his way to the lab.  “I’m telling you Boss,” Friday was saying “the structure of those conduits suggests that the charge generated by the current is supposed to have some effect.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony countered as he manipulated the hologram they were arguing about “but it should be negligible.  I don’t see how it could create the counter force required.”</p><p>“Is that my ship?” Thor asked coming up behind Tony.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony said without taking his eyes off of the puzzle “I sent some drones over to do some scans.  She needs some serious work.”</p><p>“Do you think you could fix it?” Thor said.</p><p>“Most likely,” Tony said.</p><p>“Possibly,” Friday corrected him.</p><p>“Like 95% sure,” Tony argued.</p><p>“I make it more like 55% Boss,” Friday said.</p><p>“Well, there is a built-in factor for error in my calculations,” Tony replied.</p><p>“How much error?” Thor asked.</p><p>“Well that depends,” Tony replied turning back to the holo and zooming it in on the object of his earlier argument.</p><p>“On what?” Thor asked.</p><p>“On what this is,” Friday replied, highlighting the tech that had been causing them trouble.</p><p>“Oh that,” Thor replied confidently before a groan from the workbench Strange and Rhodes were currently using as a stretching table interrupted him quite rudely.</p><p>“I thought you said Colonel Rhodes would never move his legs again,” Thor said as they both watched.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Tony said, transfixed once again by the miracle.  “Oh, and that reminds me,” he added, stepping away from the holo-generator.  “You remember that deal we had?” he asked as he stepped over to another locker and placed his palm on its scanner.</p><p>“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Thor replied uncertainly as he followed.</p><p>“Our deal,” Tony reiterated, reaching into the locker.  “I’m ready to rule Asgard,” he added as he pulled Mjolnir out.</p><p>Thor stood transfixed at the sight of his hammer.  It looked whole, but there was something wrong.  The metal didn’t seem to be reflecting the light correctly.  And Tony was busy tossing it around like it was an ordinary 3lb sledge.</p><p>“It was not easy to reassemble this bad boy when Strange brought me the pieces,” Tony was saying.  “I had to run something like a quadrillion volts through the pieces to get it to fuse back together.  But I figure it was worth it for control of an entire advanced kingdom.”</p><p>“Well Tony,” Thor said, smiling to hide the pit that Tony had unwittingly opened in his stomach “I’m a man of my word.  You are now king of Asgard.  Unfortunately, I was forced to destroy Asgard yesterday.”</p><p>“What?” Tony asked, catching the hammer and holding it at his side in surprise.  “You’ll do anything to keep me from your birthright won’t you?” he added jokingly.</p><p>“Something like that,” Thor muttered sadly before explaining what had happened.</p><p>Meanwhile Strange’s attention had been focused solely on the hammer.  But he wasn’t seeing what everyone else in the room was seeing.  Much as he had with Rhodes, he was seeing the internal workings of the hammer.  He could see where the spell’s that had made it Mjolnir had been fractured.  He could see how they entwined together to create an unbreakable object.  Thor’s sister must have known about these enchantments, for she’d clearly broken them before shattering the hammer.</p><p>Compared to his work with Rhodes repairing the fractures in the spells was simple.  It was almost like a mystical connect-the-dots.  He barely heard the conversation between the two, so engrossed was he with his work. </p><p>As he put the finishing touches on the hammer’s enchantments (making sure to sign his handiwork of course) it fell from Tony’s hand.  Tony wasted no time moving his feet away from the point of impact.</p><p>And if Tony’s reflexes were good, Thor’s were phenomenal.  The hammer had barely fallen half way to the ground before he reached out.  It was more a muscle memory than any conscious thought, but it worked.  The hammer came flying to his outstretched hand.  As his hand gripped it there was a massive spark.  For just a moment the hammer blazed with a pale blue light, revealing the enchantments Strange had so carelessly fixed.</p><p>“Oops,” Strange said as the other two glared at him. </p><p>“Wizard,” Thor growled “you begin to remind me of my brother.”</p><p>“I’m not sure if that was a compliment or not,” Tony said.</p><p>“Nor am I,” Thor replied.  “But I thank you for the return of my hammer.  I thank you both,” he added, including Tony in his gratitude.  Then he turned his attention back to the hammer.  His left hand stroked the engraving lovingly as his eyes glanced about its shape.  “Hello old friend,” he muttered to himself.  Or the hammer.  Or both.  It was hard to tell.</p><p>“Would you two like a moment alone?” Rhodes asked, snapping him out of it.  “Cause it’s starting to get a little weird again.”</p><p>Before he could reply Tony changed the subject.  “So, about this ship,” Tony said into the pregnant silence that followed.  “Does it have a name?”</p><p>“Not that I’m aware of,” Thor said, looking up from his magic mallet.  “I’m sure it has one, but finding such things have been far from a priority.</p><p>“Well then, I hereby dub it the Nostromo,” Tony replied.  “Let us hope it has a better voyage than its namesake.  Assuming we can get it running again, that is.”</p><p>“Right,” Thor replied joining him at the holo.  “So, what was it you needed to know?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Collectors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Docking Port X-3A5</p><p>Knowhere</p><p>“All right, remember,” Gamora said as they all met in the lounge “the fate of the galaxy depends on us finding and hiding the Aether.  That means no threatening him, no insulting him, no killing him, and no schmoozing him . . . whatever the hell that means,” she said, muttering that last.  As she’d spoken, she’d glared at Drax, then Rocket, then Nebula, and lastly Peter.  Each managed to look hurt at her accusation.</p><p>“It is unimportant; I won’t be going,” Nebula replied.</p><p>“Nebula,” Gamora replied “we need everyone to convince him.”</p><p>“If you wanted a petition, we should have stopped at Xandar Prime,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“It does not matter what you say,” Nebula replied, ignoring the ‘fox’.  “You will fail.  And when you do, we will come up with a real plan.”</p><p>“Nebula-,” Gamora repeated before Quill cut her off.</p><p>“-it’s not a terrible idea to leave someone to guard the ship,” he said firmly, wondering why Gamora thought Nebula would be an asset in any kind of negotiation. </p><p>Gamora looked like she was going to argue some more, but changed her mind.  “Fine, let’s go,” she added, turning to leave.</p><p>“What’s with you?” Quill asked as the descended the ramp into the landing bay. </p><p>“What do you mean?” Gamora asked flatly.</p><p>“I mean trying to get the Indigo Psycho to come with us,” Peter replied.</p><p>“I’ve told you not to call her that,” Gamora growled.</p><p>“Look, I’m not saying she doesn’t have her uses,” Peter continued, ignoring the implied threat.  “But isn’t this sort of thing just a bit outside of her . . . I don’t know, area of expertise?”</p><p>Gamora didn’t respond.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“Aright, everybody, remember where we parked,” Tony said as he, Thor, Brunnhilde, and Banner walked down the recently repaired loading ramp of The Statesman.  Tony’s hopes for christening it after a fifty-year-old movie buried under the rubble of terrible sequels had fallen on their collective faces upon the discovery that the ship already had a name.  Who knew right?</p><p>It had taken a surprisingly short amount of time to get the ship flight worthy again, once Thor had explained the basics of the various types of interstellar drive.  Sometimes it helps to have an army of robot workers under the direction of an A.I. of Friday’s caliber.</p><p>It had proven quite difficult to leave Rhodes behind for this little adventure.  Like most Air Force officers he’d dreamed of going into space.  Making him sit this one out had almost required sitting on him.  But eventually Doctors Strange and Cho had managed to convince him that this was not the time to risk any damage to his still weak spinal cord.</p><p>As they exited the ramp Tony pulled the cuff on his three-piece suit back and spoke to his watch.  “Alright Vision, you can close her up.”</p><p>“Yes Mr. Stark,” Vision said in his usual serene voice.  If he was feeling upset about being left to guard the ship, he was doing a good job of hiding it.  Truthfully, Tony would have preferred to have Strange guard the ship, but it had been pointed out that having two infinity stones in one place was just begging Lady Luck to get involved.</p><p>“So, what do you know about this Tivan guy?” Tony asked Thor while smoothing the suit’s cuff back over his watch.  For this meeting he’d decided on a red business suit so dark it was almost black.   There were strategic bits of gold and black thread spread over its surface.  His black and gold wrap around glasses were actually a complete interface with Friday. </p><p>Thor had maintained adamantly that Tivan would have been more impressed with Tony’s armor, but Stark had refused.  He’d cryptically insisted on approaching this as a business meeting.  Either that or his revulsion at wearing the suit had gotten worse since Thor had left to begin gallivanting about the cosmos.  The Asgardian wasn’t sure which.</p><p>“Taneleer Tivan is a self-interested, greedy, secretive, cretin,” Thor said bluntly.  If Tony hadn’t known better, he’d have said the god looked nervous.  “The nickname ‘The Collector’ was first given to him in jest, but he took it as his own.  Had it occurred to me that I might need to retrieve the Aether without the might of Asgard at my back I never would have approved of storing it with him.  He will not give it up willingly.”</p><p>“I’m sure we have enough force to encourage him,” Brunnhilde said from where she was bringing up the rear of their little formation.</p><p>“We would not be the first Asgardians he’s killed for attempting to steal from him,” Thor warned.</p><p>“Wow, this cruise just sounds more and more like one I shouldn’t have taken,” Banner commented as he glanced nervously about the cosmopolitan crowd they were working their way through.  He hadn’t said much since reuniting with Tony.  They’d clearly been happy to see each other, but there was this dark cloud surrounding the diminutive scientist that Tony had been unable to break.   It was almost as if Banner blamed them for the loss of his last couple years. </p><p>Tony and Thor had both privately wondered if having him with them was a good idea.  But if it came to a fight, they’d need The Hulk.  Perhaps Banner sensed that was what they were keeping him around for and resented them for it.</p><p>The rest of the trip to Taneleer’s museum was traveled in silence.  After a short while Thor began to feel like a tour guide for young children.  No matter their reservations neither of the Terrans could seem to stop trying to see all around them at once as if their heads were on swivels.  Reminding them that they weren’t had done little good either.  But eventually they arrived.</p><p>Despite the crush of the various denizens of Knowhere, who all seemed to need to be somewhere right now, there was an empty space in front of Taneleer’s estate.  It was as if fear of the man behind the door kept them crushing just a little tighter.</p><p>Thor stepped forward and knocked on the heavy door.  After the first impact the door opened, revealing a pink skinned young woman.  “My master has been expecting you Thor, Odinson,” she said, making way for the party to enter.</p><p>“He knew we were here?” Thor asked suspiciously.</p><p>“Surely that does not surprise you,” she replied calmly “that he would know all that happens in his domain?”</p><p>“No of course not,” Thor muttered as they followed her into a rather crowded office.  A group of rather surly aliens was lounging loosely around the room.  It was obvious they’d been waiting for some time, and not for this branch of The Avengers.</p><p>A human in a reddish leather trench coat was lounging against one wall, talking quietly with a green skinned woman in black leather.  A blue bear of a man with a bald head was lounging on a couch.  Tony had never seen anyone able to look insolent while laying on a couch before.  Between those two groups (yes Drax qualifies as a group in his own right) was a young vaguely human woman sporting two antennae on her head.  On another wall some sort of rodent barely looked up at their entrance as he fiddled with some sort of holographic tablet.  It was standing next to what appeared to be a topiary of a man that had lost its leaves. </p><p>The Avengers filed in silently, taking up an unoccupied wall.  The Guardians did little more than glance curiously at them before going back to their waiting.  It was inevitable that someone in that grouping of groups wouldn’t be able to restrain their obvious curiosity.  It was only a question of who and when.  It could have been almost any of them.</p><p>“The Collector is making us wait,” Thor grated impatiently.</p><p>“It’s a standard negotiating ploy,” Stark replied calmly.  “He wants us to know that this is his domain.” </p><p>“It’s his favorite move,” Quill agreed, stepping over to them.  “Peter Quill,” he said holding his hand out.  Tony glanced at it before turning back to stare silently at him.  Quill dropped his hand, but otherwise ignored the slight. </p><p>“So, what brings you guys here?” Quill asked, glancing at Stark’s clothing.  “Fitting Tivan for a new suit?”  Tony continued to stare at him.  “Hey, it’s a very nice suit,” Quill replied, arms up as if in apology.  “Where do you get a suit like that anyway?” he asked.</p><p>“You don’t,” Tony replied.  “So, what brings your group here?” he asked surveying the room.  “Find a bauble in a junkyard somewhere?”  This time it was Quill’s turn to simply stare.  “Well, I hope it’s worth enough for a meal,” Tony continued calmly.</p><p>“Tony,” Banner said warningly.</p><p>“Really?” Tony replied in irritation.  “Two years as The Hulk and you still don’t have a spine?”</p><p>Banner flinched visibly.  “Yeah well, neither does he,” Banner murmured to himself.</p><p>“We aren’t selling anything,” Quill replied through grit teeth, ignoring the byplay.</p><p>“Oh?” Tony replied.  “Reporting in then?  Get all your duties collected?  Maybe a little snatch and grab for the boss?”</p><p>“I prefer to think of it as creative appropriation.  And I don’t do that sort of thing anymore anyway,” Quill replied stiffly.  Stark’s eyebrows raised as one of his broad shots hit home. </p><p>“Peter,” Gamora snapped impatiently, concerned that the rogue would be goaded into revealing their purpose.  Quill glanced back at her, caught her meaning, and nodded almost imperceptibly.</p><p>“Well run along then,” Stark suggested sarcastically.  As he’d expected those words turned ‘Peter’ back around.</p><p>“You still haven’t told me why you’re here,” Quill stated, squaring his shoulders with Stark.</p><p>“You still haven’t told me what it is you don’t do anymore:” Stark shot back “mindless muscle, or theft?”</p><p>Before Quill could respond Thor jumped in with “Wait, I recognize this human.  He’s a thief.  He calls himself, wait a minute . . . Star Chief,” he continued.</p><p>“It’s Star Lord,” Quill corrected him.   “And I’m not a thief anymore.”</p><p>“Too bad about that,” Rocket muttered pointedly from the corner.</p><p>“I am Groot,” the topiary agreed, causing the whole of The Avengers to stare.</p><p>“And I recognize you too Odinson,” Quill replied, bringing them back to current events.  “Perhaps your here on real estate speculation?”  Suddenly the atmosphere in the room became very tense as Thor surged up to Quill, hammer held up menacingly.  Gamora and Brunnhilde rolled their eyes.  Banner and Mantis cringed.  Drax sat up on the couch he’d been watching this little drama unfold on, knives in hand.   The only people that didn’t seem to take any notice were Groot and Rocket.</p><p>“Choose your next words carefully, Thief,” Thor rumbled in rage.</p><p>Tony put an arm between them.  “We’re just here to make a withdrawal,” he said, cutting off whatever suicidal maunderings might have emanated from Quill before he could get any information out of him.  Besides, he imagined starting a brawl in this collector guy’s place was not the best first impression.</p><p>“This is not a bank,” Drax declared, unwittingly breaking the tension.</p><p>“No,” Tony agreed, turning to the berserker “more of a safe deposit box.”  He turned back to Quill.</p><p>“Peter, come here,” Gamora demanded, suddenly at his side.  She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the Asgardian.  “Is that what you call schmoozing?” she demanded.</p><p>“What do you make of them?” Thor asked Tony, still glaring at Peter.</p><p>“I’m not sure,” Tony said slowly, pulling Thor back to the wall they’d been holding up.  “But one thing is certain, they’re worried that we’re here for whatever they’re here for,” he added in hushed tones.</p><p>“Should we be worried about that as well?” Thor whispered back.</p><p>Before Tony could reply one of The Collector’s servants entered.  “I present to you Taneleer Tivan, The Collector,” she announced with a bow.</p><p>“My deepest apologies for the delay,” Tivan said as he entered.  “I’m afraid I was detained by business.  I like your clothes by the way,” he added as he passed Stark.  “Whereabouts does one find such exotic garments?”</p><p>“Enough games Taneleer,” Thor interjected with his usual tact as he stepped up to him.  “We’re here for the Aether.”</p><p>“What?” Gamora and Quill yelled simultaneously.</p><p>Meanwhile Nebula’s voice came over Rocket’s earpiece.  “They want the reality stone as well?” she asked.</p><p>“Yeah, probably,” Rocket muttered still working his tablet.  Up until that moment he hadn’t actually decided if he was going to help Nebula or not, but the arrival of these strangers sealed that deal.  He switched to an app that appeared on the surface to be a game of some sort.  In reality it was a cleverly disguised scanning and hacking utility.</p><p>“Good,” Nebula replied.</p><p>“What’s good about it?” Rocket asked, struggling to keep his voice down.  “What if he gives it to these circus freaks instead of us?”</p><p>“He won’t,” she assured him.  “But we will use them to keep him distracted.  Do you have the data yet?”</p><p>“No, he just got here,” Rocket replied defensively.</p><p>“Make it quick,” she demanded.</p><p>“Who does she think she is,” Rocket grumbled to himself.</p><p>“Boss,” Friday said over Tony’s earpiece.  “That cybernetic raccoon is attempting to hack The Collector’s security.”</p><p>Tony glanced over to where the upright rodent was working.  His own scanners revealed the UI and Tony grinned slightly.  “Clever little rodent,” he muttered to himself.</p><p>“Should we inform The Collector?” she asked.</p><p>“Not just yet,” Tony murmured.  “There’s no way we could hack an alien security system, and I get the feeling this deal is about to go sideways.  Just keep me apprised of its progress.”</p><p>“Yes Boss,” she replied.</p><p>“This whole thing’s warped,” Banner said from Tony’s side, making him jump.  Apparently, he’d moved there while Stark had been occupied.</p><p>Tony shot him a quick glare.  “What do you mean?” he asked.</p><p>“That comment about your clothes,” Banner replied earnestly.  “This Collector guy’s trying to play us against each other,” he added with a nod towards the current argument.</p><p>“Yes, I’m sure,” Taneleer was saying with remarkable aplomb.  “But as you can see, that raises a bit of a quandary; were I to just hand over the Aether, to whom should I entrust it?”</p><p>“How about to the people who can be trusted to hide it,” Quill jumped in.</p><p>“I might remind you that the events encompassing your last visit do not serve you here,” Taneleer replied calmly.</p><p>“I could say the same,” Quill shot back before Gamora could wave him to silence.</p><p>“Taneleer,” she started “you know we had to give the power stone to The Nova Core.  It was the only way to keep it safe.”</p><p>“According to my sources Thanos is planning to move against them next,” Taneleer replied.  “You haven’t protected the stone -as I could have- you’ve doomed all of Nova Prime.”</p><p>“He’s moving quickly,” Brunnhilde commented.</p><p>“Yes, but why now?” Thor asked.  “He’s sought the infinity stones for eons, yet always been content to let others hold them.”</p><p>“My sources say that some misguided band of rogues unwittingly led one of his agents to the last missing Infinity Stone: The Soul Stone.  You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” Taneleer offered, turning to Quill.  Nebula snorted in disgusted amusement over the comm, causing Rocket’s ears to flatten slightly. </p><p>“To be fair, he already knew where it was,” Peter explained without thinking.</p><p>“It was you?” Thor demanded, suddenly bristling.  “You brought this apocalypse down upon us all?  And you think you should be trusted with another Infinity Stone?” he asked incredulously.</p><p>“Look just back off bad hair day,” Quill snapped.  “We’re The Guardians of the Galaxy.  We’ll fix this.  Just give us the stone and we’ll hide it.”</p><p>“I don’t care what you call your little club,” Thor argued.  “Hiding the stone only works until Thanos pries its location out of you.”</p><p>“And let’s face it,” Tony added “your judgement’s already been proven to be suspect.”</p><p>“And I suppose you think you can protect it?” Gamora replied.</p><p>“The stone belongs to Asgard,” Thor insisted.</p><p>“Yes, and it was very wise of you to entrust it to me,” Taneleer replied smoothly.  “And were you still in a position to protect it I would most assuredly return it to your care.  But I feel it is safer with me for now.”</p><p>“You can’t possibly believe you can keep Thanos from taking it,” Quill argued.</p><p>“Got it!” Rocket muttered to himself as he broke through the final wall of security.  “Nebula, I’m sending the biometrics to you now.  The stone is in the main vault, three floors directly below the foyer.  If I’m reading this right, it’s got a time-based combination lock.  Sending the algorithm now.”</p><p>“Got it.  Keep them busy,” Nebula replied curtly.</p><p>“Oh, hey you’re welcome.  It was nothing really,” Rocket grumbled to himself.</p><p>“Boss,” Friday said as Tony watched the futile struggle.  “I think the rat thing has broken through the security.”</p><p>“Can you tell what he’s doing?” Tony asked.</p><p>“It looks like he’s copying data and sending it somewhere.”</p><p>“So, it’s a heist,” Stark said.</p><p>“Isn’t that what I just said?” Friday replied tartly.</p><p>“Can you find who he sent the data to?” Tony asked.</p><p>“The signal he’s connected to is in the building somewhere below us.”</p><p>“Alright, keep track of it and see about a path down there.”</p><p>“On it,” she replied just as Thor raised his voice.  Tony turned his attention back to the conversation at hand just in time to see Thor threaten Tivan.</p><p>“You will not refuse me again Elder,” Thor said, looming over him with his hammer ready.  As Taneleer returned his glare the room suddenly came alive.  Bits of junk, fixtures, and even furniture turned into weapons.  The entire room bristled with death, and half of it was pointing at Thor.  The other half was liberally spread between the other occupants.  Most froze like deer in headlights; Banner stepped behind Tony.</p><p>“How come he gets to threaten him?” Drax demanded, sounding hurt.</p><p>“As you can see, I have all the protection I need,” Taneleer stated smugly.  Thor glared around the room as his intellect wrestled with the urge born of frustration to crush The Collector.</p><p>“Alright big guy,” Quill said, stepping to Thor’s side.   “I’d really rather not be turned to paste, so why don’t you just back off a little, and let cooler heads prevail.”</p><p>“Fine,” Thor said stepping back, but never taking his eyes off of Tivan.  “If you think you can get him to release the stone go ahead.  But it leaves with me.”</p><p>“Wow, that doesn’t sound like an epitaph at all,” Quill replied pointedly before turning to The Collector.  He glanced at the array of weapons.  “It’s an impressive collection,” he said to Tivan “but do you think you could” he asked finishing that sentence by holding his hand out, palm down, and making lowering motions. </p><p>Tivan cast one more glare at Thor before disarming his massive arsenal.  It took far longer for the various pieces to fold themselves back into their previous states.  No doubt that was deliberate.</p><p>“Thank you,” Quill said with a sidelong look at Thor.  “Now, as I was saying it’s an impressive security system.  But you don’t think it will stop Thanos do you?”</p><p>“You think too much in terms involving matched force,” Tivan replied cryptically.  It looked as if he was about to say more, but before he could expound upon that statement an alarm sounded.  Before anyone could ask what was going on the guns all came back out, and heavy shutters closed over the exits.</p><p>“Hey, what’s this?” Quill demanded, hands held in the air. </p><p>“This is what happens when you try to steal from me,” Tivan replied with a cold rancor.  “If anyone attempts to leave the room, kill them,” he added to the security system before his image winked out.</p><p>“He was a hologram?” Drax asked.</p><p>“I am Groot,” Groot replied.</p><p>Thor glared at Quill.  “Thief,” he accused.</p><p>“It’s not me,” Quill said, hands still up.</p><p>“Nebula,” Gamora hissed.</p><p>“Wait, what does that mean?” Banner asked from behind Tony.  In answer the entire room lit with accusations.  Only a small part of Stark’s attention was on the conversation.  The rest was on the argument the raccoon was having with itself. </p><p>“What do you mean your locked in?” it was saying.  “How should I know?” It listened for a moment before adding “Those were the algorithms in the security system.”  Then “alright, alright, I’ll get you out of there.”  It started working at the app it had been using.</p><p>“Friday, can you patch me into the raccoon’s communicator,” Tony asked.</p><p>“I should be able to,” the AI replied.  “The protocols are pretty straight forward.”</p><p>“Hurry before it makes things worse,” he muttered, making a quick survey of the room.  Whether he’d intended it or not, Taneleer had created an instant pressure cooker.  Maybe he was hoping they’d take care of his problem for him. <em> ‘How many angry people constitutes a mob</em>?’ Stark wondered to himself.</p><p>“Done,” Friday said, cutting into his thoughts. </p><p>Before he could speak a bitterly angry woman’s voice came over the link.  “I’ll get out myself,” she almost seemed to hiss.  “I should have known better than to trust any of you.”</p><p>“Wow, she sounds angry,” Tony observed.</p><p>“Who was that?” she asked suspiciously.</p><p>“I don’t know,” the raccoon said. </p><p>“Just me,” Tony replied calmly.  “Over here,” he added as the raccoon glanced about the room.</p><p>“What do you want monocle?” he demanded, glaring at Tony.</p><p>“I want you to not set those guns off,” Tony replied.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Rocket asked, taking his turn to be suspicious.</p><p>“You’re not exactly sneaky,” Tony said quickly.  “I know you have someone else in the building trying to steal the gem.  I’m guessing it’s the rather irked woman on the other end of your comm.”</p><p>“And your point would be?” Rocket demanded, paws flying over the interface.</p><p>“You need help,” Tony replied.</p><p>“From you?” Rocket asked as condescendingly as possible.  “Gimme a break hummie.”</p><p>“Actually, from me,” Friday replied over the comm.</p><p>“How many people you got in that suit?” Rocket asked, squinting at him.</p><p>“That’s Friday,” Tony explained.  “She’s an AI.”</p><p>“Well good for you two,” Rocket replied “but I don’t need any help.  I know what I’m doing.”</p><p>“Is that why you’ve just spent the last ten minutes hacking a dummy security system?” Tony asked.</p><p>“What?  No, I haven’t” Rocket said reflexively.</p><p>“Then why do the readouts show the system to be inactive?” Friday asked pointedly.  Rocket glared at them before returning his attention to the board.  He’d been so worried about freeing Nebula before The Collector put the two of them together that he hadn’t even paid attention to the main room.  He quickly minimized the vault and expanded the lobby, revealing no warning lights.  Apparently, the dummy screen only updated from automatic alarms as opposed to manual overrides.</p><p>“Hrnn,” he growled, as he redoubled his efforts looking for the access point within the overlay that would open the real operating system.</p><p>“You fell for a dummy overlay,” the voice accused.  “Are you trying to sabotage me?”</p><p>“Shut it psycho,” Rocket growled.  He didn’t like making mistakes.   And he liked having them pointed out even less.  And he really didn’t appreciate it all happening with an audience, specifically some savage from a backwater planet.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Nebula might have responded, but at that moment one of the black heavy metal walls that had boxed her in opened, revealing Taneleer Tivan heavy one nasty looking two handed cannon of some sort.</p><p>“Now I’m sure you’re wondering what this does,” Tivan said casually hefting the massive weapon in his hands.  Nebula lunged at him.  She made it half the distance before Taneleer activated the device.  Its snub end emitted a wide field of reddish energy that caught her in midair and held her there.</p><p>“I suppose I should be upset at your intrusion,” Taneleer continued in that same calm, polite way he had “but I’m just so grateful to have such wonderful new editions for my collection.”  As she started to reply he pointed the device at one of the three remaining walls of the trap she’d fallen into.  She found her body flying through the air in the same direction.  That flight ended as she slammed into the wall with a bone shattering crunch.  Her self-repair systems started to correct the errors, but they didn’t get far before she had another violent encounter with a different wall.</p><p>“Why didn’t you try to capture us before?” she gasped, pushing herself up from the wall.</p><p>“Oh, it’s not a good policy to capture possible business partners” he replied.  “It scares away business.  Thieves on the other hand,” he added slamming her into the ceiling to make his point.  “Well, no one misses them.”</p><p>“Out of curiosity, is there a limit to your repair protocols?” Tivan asked before slamming her into another wall.  Her arm broke, then mended itself almost instantly.  “Yes, you will make quite the display piece,” he assured her, clearly pleased with himself.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“I believe the access point is in Taneleer’s private computer,” Friday put in.  Rocket touched that icon on the schematic.  It opened into another window, one that was hopefully the real security system.</p><p>“Wait, you understand this system?” Tony asked.</p><p>“It appears to be the same programming language that runs the Statesman,” Friday replied as Tony eyed the room.  Thor was currently squaring off with the Star-Thief and the big blue goon.  Brunnhilde was currently saying something that was probably quite provocative to the green chick.  Banner and the antennaed girl were both huddled against opposite walls.</p><p>“Hurry up,” Stark whispered.</p><p>“I’m in,” Rocket said a moment later.  “Deactivating security system.”</p><p>“Wait,” Tony yelled loud enough to stop everyone in the room.  “Double check it’s the real deal,” he added more quietly, everyone watching him.</p><p>“It’s the real deal,” Rocket insisted.  “Not even The Collector is paranoid enough to go three levels deep.”</p><p>“Do as he says fox” Nebula grunted over the comm, as if in pain.</p><p>“Just activate the fire system,” Tony said.</p><p>Rocket sighed.  “Fine,” he said before hitting a few prompts on his screen.  A moment later the entire room was filled with a raucous claxon.  “Oh yeah,” he yelled over its warbling “this is much better.”</p><p>“Just shut everything down,” Tony and Nebula shouted at the same time.  A moment later the claxon ended, taking all the guns with it. </p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>The walls of Nebula’s torture cubicle retracted back into the ceiling just before yet another face to barrier encounter.  By the time Tivan realized that said blunt object was no longer available, his motion with the rifle had already carried her past the massive front of the vault she’d been attempting to open.  As one of the room’s machines interposed itself between the weapon and Nebula, it switched targets, freeing her.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>The myriad weapons in Taneleer’s greeting room were still in the process of retracting when Tony’s suit turned inside out.  The myriad devices placed throughout its fibers activate, unspooling into an Ironman suit.  The visor he’d been wearing extended, engulfing his head.  Metal plates extended from the soles of his shoes.  His watch formed one gauntlet while the other extended from his sleeve.</p><p>It all happened at once, incredibly quickly.  One moment he looked ready for a quarterly stock review meeting.   The next he was encased in the newest of his suits.</p><p>“Impressive,” Thor said.</p><p>“I agree,” a much deeper voice said from the entrance.  “At least for a race as stunted as yours,” Thanos added as he strode into the room.  He was flanked by a line of henchmen that made the Chitahuri the Avengers had faced over New York into real lookers.  They seemed to have been handpicked from multiple different species.  Almost all of them had at least one technological appendage as if they represented an entire season’s product from that hit show ‘pimp my psycho’.  The only commonality among any of them was a certain sadistic glint in their eyes, as if they couldn’t wait to cause someone -anyone would do- pain. </p><p>“Uh oh, Daddy’s here,” Rocket muttered.</p><p>“I appreciate you disabling the security system rat,” Thanos added to Rocket in passing. </p><p>“Well, I can see where Gamora gained her tact from,” Rocket replied as he glared back at the purpled-backed gorilla.  Gamora didn’t respond.  In fact, she appeared to be frozen in place.</p><p>“Indeed?” Thanos responded, as if reminded of some task on his to do list.    He turned and stepped over to the green woman.  As he closed the terror in her face came closer and closer to the surface.  “Gamora,” he said, managing to sound both sinister and hurt at the same time; a neat trick that.  “You and your sister have disappointed me.  You’ve betrayed your family.  You betrayed yourselves.”  Gamora didn’t respond, unless you counted shaking in fear as a response.</p><p>Thanos reached that massive paw of a hand out to touch her face with one thick finger.  “It is not too late to return to the fold,” he added softly.  “Rejoin your family, and all will be forgotten.”</p><p>As much as Gamora wanted to yell defiance at this monster for all he’d done, she found she couldn’t.  She knew what he was capable of.  She knew he’d never let her go, that the pain would never stop if she defied him.  The fear of that end was the strongest force she’d ever felt in her life.  It drowned out love, or hope, or trust.  She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help but consider the offer.  And she hated herself for doing it.</p><p>The entire room was completely still, as if its inhabitants were afraid even to breathe as that contest of wills took place.   Those who truly knew the choice she’d been given couldn’t understand why she hesitated, while those who weren’t intimately familiar with Thanos’s idea of conditioning couldn’t understand why she was considering it.  But none could speak that in that overpowering presence . . . except one person.</p><p>“You know I always thought this is what a Manson Family reunion would be like,” Quill said as disrespectfully as possible. </p><p>Whether due the sound of Quill’s voice, or simply the breaking of the moment Gamora’s fear abated slightly.  “I can’t,” she whispered.  In response Thanos backhanded Quill in the face, sending him flying.  If he hadn’t managed to activate his helmet the blow would probably have crashed right through his skull.  Thanos then reached for Gamora slowly, deliberately . . . arrogantly.  All she was able to do was watch that maw come closer and closer.</p><p>But it never got there, instead being deflected by Thor’s thrown hammer.  Gamora used the diversion to slip away and head toward Quill’s unconscious form.  Thanos whipped around, suddenly furious at being interfered with.  “Kill them.  Bring me Gamora’s body, as well as that of her little boy toy,” he added as he walked towards the center of the room.  The blue gem on his gauntlet glowed and a portal appeared flat against the ground in the center of the room.  Through it could be seen a massive desk with what appeared to be an elevated view of Knowhere.</p><p>Recognizing where that portal must lead, Thor threw his hammer, attempting to knock Thanos away from it.  It may well have been suicidal to keep him there, but he couldn’t allow the Mad Titan to gain the Aether.</p><p>As it turned out, he had little choice in the matter; Thanos had no trouble batting Mjolnir out of the air like it was a tennis ball.  He spared one quick smirk for the god of thunder and then dropped down.</p><p>“Yes Father,” a blue skinned woman nearly as tall as Thanos himself said reverently, stepping into the room.  She was wearing a black skinsuit with white and grey highlights along the torso and biceps, and was impressively built.  Her left arm was clad in gold plated armor and hefted a nasty looking spear.</p><p>“Proxima Midnight,” Gamora breathed in both fear and disgust.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“What have you done?” Taneleer yelled as he stalked around the vault room looking for Nebula.  He knew that in the light of recent developments he should really be getting his security system back online.  But he’d planned this moment for centuries.  To have it all undone by a pack of hoodlums in a matter of moments was enraging.</p><p>Besides, it should take Thanos some time to deal with the welcoming committee he’d left in his meeting room.  That was more than enough time to exact some vengeance.</p><p>Those plans too were altered as he rounded the corner of the massive cylinder of security equipment set next to the vault.  Nebula appeared from around it, kicking the gun out of his hand; she then applied a similar treatment to his face before striding over to the vault door.</p><p>“Rodent do you have the actual code?” she asked over the comm.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, Rocket can’t come to the comm right now,” Rocket yelled as he thrusted out of the direction of a flying body.  “Mainly because he’s busy fighting your psycho family,” he added firing off a massive bolt of green energy at Proxima.  Other than knocking her back it seemed to have very little effect. “Please leave a message at the yell,” he finished.</p><p>The entire chamber was in chaos.  There were so many bodies flying around, few by their own volition, and shots being fired that it was impossible to make out who was winning.  Proxima had almost managed to kill Quill while he was dealing with the idea of still owning a head, but before she could deliver the coup de grace, Thor and Drax had converged on her.  Rocket’s shot had managed to keep her from impaling Drax, but that fight seemed to be mostly a draw. </p><p>He figured the guy with the metal Armani suit must have some form of death wish, because he’d actually tried to follow Thanos through the portal he’d created.  Fortunately for him that portal had closed after the Mad Titan had jumped down it.  Currently he was flying around launching people into the air with some form of repulsor blast like his great ambition in life was to be a tornado.  He was the chief contributor of debris in the cluttered room, much to Rocket’s annoyance.  But he had to admit the guy was doing a wonderful job of being wherever he was needed to keep one of them alive while he was doing it, and all while yelling at the other guy he’d brought along to get in the fight.  Said ‘other guy’ was currently hiding under a table with Mantis.</p><p>Quill and Gamora had fused into an effective unit, taking down spawn after spawn, while still managing to lend a hand occasionally in the fight against Proxima.  But there were so many targets.  Normally Rocket would have simply called that a target rich environment and gleefully discharged his weapon as if auditioning to be the next Rambo.  The problem with that strategy being that there were just too many allies, not to mention the not-enemies that were currently helping out, for that to be what he would classify a good idea.</p><p>“Stay out of the center of the room,” the guy in the suit warned.</p><p>“Why?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Cause I’m about to bring the roof down,” came the response.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Nebula snarled at Rocket’s message and leapt across the room to stand on Tivan’s gun just as his hands grasped its hilt.  She picked him up with her left hand, gave him a half second impassive glare, and hurled him into a wall.  Then she picked up the weapon, ripped the barrel off, and chucked the parts to one side.</p><p>“Perhaps I can help,” Friday said over the comm.</p><p>“You stay out of my stuff,” Rocket yelled at the AI.  He was mostly ignored.</p><p>“The code is a set of time dependent variables,” Friday explained.  “Their current values are: 72, 53, 108, 9, and 53,” she said.  Nebula pulled her key out of her pocket where she’d stashed it to make sure it hadn’t been broken in the scuffle.  She quickly bent to the keypad and tapped the sequence in.</p><p>The vault door opened immediately, splitting along a vertical line that bisected it.  The gap was barely a foot wide before she impatiently slipped through.  It was the size of a closet and dark.  But that didn’t stop her from determining immediately that it was also empty.  No infinity stone.  No artifacts of any kind.  Not even a sack of currency.</p><p>“Do you like it?” Taneleer asked smugly.  “Solid neutronium walls,” he added.  “The only known existence of the once theoretical substance.  Completely impenetrable.”  She couldn’t help but glance at the empty vault.  Neutronium had been theorized for thousands of years but no one had ever found a way to synthesize it.</p><p>“You didn’t really think I’d put the actual resting place of the Aether in my system, did you?” a much-rumpled Collector asked from the doorway.  She turned quickly to see him holding the rear half of the gun on her.  There was an undulating reddish glow coming from the hole she’d made when she ripped the barrel off.  Nebula wondered if he was going to continue his earlier treatment but the sound of a boulder falling to the ground behind him drew their attentions.</p><p> “I wondered where you might have stashed it,” Thanos said from behind him.  Tivan turned reflexively, his face mirroring the horror on Nebula’s.  He raised the gun, but Thanos backhanded him across the room.  Thanos held an open hand out towards Taneleer while he was still busy counting stars.  The gun flew from beside the downed collector back to Thanos.  It looked puny and insignificant in his giant maw of a hand.</p><p>All Nebula could do was stare in horror as he turned towards her.  She wanted to shrink away from him, but she couldn’t make herself move.  Her mind had blanked completely.  The only thing passing through it was the fear, as if no time had passed since their last meeting.</p><p>“Nebula,” Thanos said turning towards her.  “Your sister has made her choice and she will pay in the coin of everlasting torment for it.  But you have not betrayed me yet.  Come back.”</p><p>Nebula blinked in surprise at that offer.  The very thought that all could be forgiven by the Mad Titan was anathema to his very personality.  </p><p>Unless it was some sort of ruse.  But what if it wasn’t?  Who really had to think about the choice of everlasting torture and not everlasting torture?  But, despite her best effort, she couldn’t believe he’d ever let her disobedience go unpunished.  What would it be this time?  A mechanical leg?   The rest of her brain?  Scarring, mutilation?  The list was endless</p><p>The more she thought about it the more she realized what he was really offering.  His first demand -to prove her newfound loyalty of course- would be her oversight of Gamora’s punishment.   But wasn’t that better than the alternative?  Gamora’d had everything in this life while she’d had nothing.  Wasn’t it time for the roles to be reversed?</p><p>Her deliberations were cut short by a red beam that sliced a circle through the ceiling.  Before they could react the now segregated ceiling fell, crushing Thanos to the ground in front of her. </p><p>If it had been one floor falling on him, the Mad Titan would probably have been irritated.  But it wasn’t one floor.  Tony had stacked the floors at each level, creating a three floor thick mass of rubble that even Thanos couldn’t simply ignore.  Not that he wasn’t irritated by the minor setback of being buried by several tons of stone and metal, of course.  The growl of frustration that came from that pile of debris made that unmistakable. </p><p>At the top of the pile was a metal suited man Nebula had never seen before, but immediately recognized as the strange voice over the comm.  “Third floor,” it said.  “Burial assistance, ego restructuring, and gift shops.”  Then he looked up at her.  “You coming?” he asked simply.</p><p>As if on cue the pile of rubble started moving as Thanos began digging his way out of his multi-ton tomb.  Nebula stared at him as if he’d spoken an alien tongue, unable to move.  She had no idea who he was, but she was certain of one thing; he could not help her.</p><p>Taneleer on the other hand, felt no such compunctions.  Seeing his moment of escape he bolted for the stairwell.</p><p>“Whoa fella,” Tony said as Thanos’s movements increased.  He fought to retain his balance, in the end lifting off of the unstable mass.  “Uh, Thor,” he called up the whole “I think I’m going to need your help with the purple gorilla.”</p><p>“You didn’t try to feed it did you?” Thor called from above.</p><p>“Now please,” Tony said as one gigantic hand broke through the rubble.</p><p>“Fine,” Thor muttered, Joining Drax in an all-out offensive against Proxima.  There were two of them, and she couldn’t possibly block Thor’s hammer.  But she was bigger than either of them, and her spear gave her reach.  She was also adept at guiding Thor’s swings into missing by giving his arm a gentle push with her spear.  More than once she’d managed to guide the hammer into Drax, who had not been pleased by the least.</p><p>A flurry of emotions crossed Banner’s face as he watched his friends fight.  They needed The Hulk.  There were still more cybernetic freaks pouring into the room, Thor and his blue friend were barely keeping the blue giantess at bay, and that only because the others were spending a dangerous amount of time watching their backs.  And Tony was below trying to single handedly take on the very thing that had The Hulk cowering in the corners of his mind.</p><p>As the fight between Banner’s fear of losing himself and his desire to help his friends peaked Thor and Drax overreached themselves in their desperate attempt to end their own \.  Proxima immediately capitulated by slipping a hammer swing from Thor and thrusting the sharp end of her golden spear at Drax, who barely managed to avoid being impaled.  Unfortunately, he still suffered a scratch along his chest.  He lurched back in pain as the spear’s toxin entered the wound.  Proxima used the sudden opening to kick him across the room hard enough to leave a Drax shaped dent in the wall.  And then there was only one in her way.</p><p>Watching the giantess gain the upper hand, Banner realized he was just kidding himself in thinking he actually had a choice in this.  He could either help his friends now or fight by himself; either way he would have to fight.  So, face set in a mask of determination, he pulled himself out from under the table and stood up.</p><p>“Excuse me,” he said casually tapping the nearest of Thanos’s goons on the shoulder.  In response it kicked him back under the table and advanced on him, a sadistic gleam in its eyes.</p><p>The goon only made it one step before Groot grabbed him, and began extending his tendrils to encompass its limbs.  It looked a bit like he was riding a bucking bull as it struggled.  That didn’t last long as the tendrils contracted breaking bones, and crushing the chest in what was probably the worst death Banner could ever have imagined.  The thing fell to the ground lifeless.  Then Groot smiled at Banner.</p><p>“What was that supposed to do?” Mantis demanded.</p><p>“It didn’t work,” Banner muttered, more to himself than anyone else.  He pulled his shirt back, revealing the area he’d been kicked in.  Instead of a bruise the skin around it was green and had an amorphous quality.  It looked like the beginnings of his transformation.  But apparently all the Hulk would do was repair his wounds, because a second later his skin returned to its natural color.</p><p>“Come on big guy,” Banner muttered as if calming a nervous horse.  “They need you.  Thor needs you.  He’s your friend, isn’t he?”</p><p>But nothing would happen.  The Hulk would not come.  For a moment Banner was struck by the pure irony that he would be wanting the Hulk to take over.  But then he got angry.  “Come on,” he demanded, slapping himself in the face.  “Come on.”</p><p>“What are you doing?” Mantis demanded, grabbing his shoulder.</p><p>“I have to get mad,” Banner told her desperately, as he watched Thor barely fend off Proxima’s attacks.  In fact, if not for a well-aimed shot from the thief, his friend would already be dead.  “I have to get mad right now,” he reiterated, deliberately ramming his head into the bottom of the table.  “Ow,” he said indignantly, holding his head.  But for once he wasn’t feeling anger.  He was feeling fear, fear for his friends.</p><p>“You have to get angry?” Mantis asked disbelievingly.</p><p>“Yes!” Banner snapped.  But the Hulk would not come.</p><p>“Why?” she asked.</p><p>“So, I can help,” he told her, smacking himself again.  She seemed to think that over for a second before tentatively reaching out and touching his arm.</p><p>“What-” Banner started.  Then her antenna began to glow.</p><p>“You feel anger,” she said, then screamed and backed up, as the Hulk finally came out to play.  The transformation wasn’t even complete before he charged, knocking the goons out of the way as if they were made of cardboard.</p><p>Proxima barely had enough time to realize that the game had changed before the Hulk punched her so hard that she passed through the metal wall of not only their room but several rooms beyond, and possibly out of the building entirely.  Her spear clattered to the ground where it had braced against the hole her passage had created.  The goons all stopped, as if collectively processing what had just happened.  Then they ran.</p><p>“Thanks,” Thor gasped looking around the suddenly roomier room.  “Don’t touch that,” he added pointing at the spear. </p><p>Mantis darted from under the table to where Drax lay.  She rolled him over with great effort and took in his barely conscious form.  The slight scratch from the spear had already widened into a blackened line that deepened as she watched.  “He’s barely breathing,” she said adding a shocked look at them for good measure.</p><p>“Oh, come on,” Quill said disbelievingly “we’ve seen him pinball off of trees before.”</p><p>“Proxima Midnight’s spear is poisoned,” Gamora informed them.  “But it’s a superficial cut.  If we can get him to a medical facility, we <em>might</em> be able to save him.”</p><p>“There’s a medical bay on the Statesman,” Thor said.  “And we have a pretty good part time biologist,” he added looking at The Hulk.  That worthy looked away with a snort.</p><p>“Where?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Docking port X-3B2,” Thor told him.</p><p>“Groot can you get Drax to that ship?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“I am Groot,” came the indignant response.</p><p>“I am not treating you like a child,” Gamora replied.  Those new to the home game gained varying quizzical looks.</p><p>“I am Groot,” the plant demanded.</p><p>“Because you’re the only one who can,” Gamora insisted.</p><p>“I am Groot.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Gamora replied.</p><p>“What that mean?” Hulk demanded.</p><p>Groot turned a glare on the green giant.  “I am-” he started before a panicky voice rose from below</p><p>“-You know, any time would be great,” Tony called up, diverting that entire argument.  The sound of him knocking the last support holding the ceiling above onto Thanos’s pile followed, as if for punctuation.</p><p>Groot shrugged and grabbed one of Drax’s arms, working his way under the shoulder.  Then he dragged the unconscious berserker out of the room.</p><p>Thor turned, giving a quick glance to his spontaneous allies.  “Shall we?” he asked and dropped down the hole.  Quill glanced at Gamora, who simply shrugged in an attempt to hide her fear and followed.  Taking that cue the rest of the room emptied down the shaft Tony had made.  All except Mantis and Hulk.</p><p>At the bottom Tony fired a missile into the groping paw that had emerged, walking dead style, from the rubble.  The hand flinched before grabbing a piece of debris and flicking it blindly back.  It caught Stark square in the chest, launching him into a wall.  Thanos continued his unearthing unopposed.</p><p>His head had just pushed through the pile as Thor fell from above.  The Asgardian didn’t hesitate to use that moment of vulnerability to add the momentum of his fall to the most powerful hammer strike he could manage.</p><p>Thor’s eyes widened in shock as the force of the blow forced the upper portion of the Mad Titan’s body back into the pile of debris.  He’d been worried that Thanos’s previous feat had shown an immunity to the hammer.  Apparently, that immunity required a certain amount of directed will. </p><p>But, despite that good news, the effect of that one hit fell far short of his expectations.  Any other being would have had their grey matter (or whatever color they used) squishing out their ears from a blow like that; the best that could be said for it was that it seemed to stun the purple gorilla momentarily.</p><p>Far too momentarily, in Thor’s opinion, since Thanos’s other arm suddenly sprung from the rubble with blinding speed, and seized him by the torso.  One moment he was standing from his landing and the next he was slammed flat against the pile he’d been standing on by a torso sized fist.  Thor tried to pry that hand off of him, but Thanos placed all of his weight, plus the weight of the debris still on top of him, onto the Asgardian, and pushed.  His form began to rise from the pile once again.</p><p>Thanos was only up to his hands and one knee when Tony opened up on him with everything he had in an impressive barrage of missiles and projectiles.  The first few hit Thanos before he could hold an outstretched hand towards the incoming fire.  After that simple gesture every single projectile stopped suddenly.</p><p>“Um, not going according to plan,” Tony announced.  Thanos grinned and every projectile reversed course.  The impacts of the shrapnel coupled with the explosions from the missiles sent Stark careening against several walls with a pinball like manner before coming to rest against one of the vaults.  Thor rolled out from under Thanos before that hand could resecure him.</p><p>Before Thanos could capitalize on either of his adversaries the rest of their allies showed up.  Then ensued a great melee.  The best that could be said was that due to each member’s constant attacks Thanos was unable to kill any of them.  Yet their attacks were unable to provoke more than minor flinches from him.</p><p>At the top of the hole, Hulk paced back and forth in indecision.  He wanted to help his friends.  He should help his friends.  He knew that.  But Thanos was down there.  And Hulk knew he couldn’t beat him.  Yet the sounds of battle would not stop beckoning him.  He pumped his arms, trying to psyche himself up, but he just couldn’t quite get there.</p><p>Back below Thanos had had enough.  The minor scrapes and pinpricks his assailants had inflicted had gone beyond the annoyance of gnats.  Minimal as their damage was, each attack had the added effect of impeding his will. </p><p>“Enough,” he growled.  In one flurry of movement he backhanded Thor into Brunnhilde, kicked Gamora into a wall, and telekinetically sent a shotgun blast of rocks at Quill and Rocket.  Thor and Brunnhilde landed in a tangled mass against the far wall.  The force of his kick knocked Gamora out as she impacted her wall. </p><p>Rocket took several rocks in the body and head, causing him to lose control of his flight pack.  His futile attempts to regain control added up to a head first ram into the same wall Gamora had fallen unconscious at.  He was already out cold before his body fell the remaining five feet to the ground.</p><p>The impact sent Quill into an uncontrollable tumble whose motion much resembled that of a deflating balloon.  Realizing his attempts to regain control were only making things worse he shut his boot jets off.  Unfortunately, the wild gyrations had been such that he’d lost track of where he was in the room.  To his chagrin it turned out he’d been on an upward track; he barely had time to utter a curse before he landed flat on his back from twenty feet up.</p><p>Up until that moment Nebula had been frozen in indecision, hiding in her reinforced box.  No matter how much she hated Thanos, her fear trumped it.   She found it impossible to even consider that he would lose this fight.  Yet, as he gained the clear upper hand in the contest, she found herself stepping out of her cage.  It was as if somehow the very confirmation of his dominance had compelled her to become involved.  She had no idea what she could do, but something in her said she must do something.</p><p>Before she could figure out what that something was Thanos snatched Ironman out of the air with one giant maw and raised the other hand up at his side, palm up.  As he did so, the debris in the room floated off the ground around him.  Then he bawled that open palm into a fist and the debris formed a compact shell around them.</p><p>“Tony!” Thor yelled, struggling to get back to his feet.</p><p>Stark tried to struggle against his captor but nothing worked.  He tried using his boot jets to free himself.  Thanos simply held him against their impulse.  He tried firing a repulsor blast at Thanos’s eyes.  He calmly blocked it with his palm.  Lasers and missiles likewise had no effect on his armor.  Every attack just made his sadistic grin wider.  It was as if he were taking great enjoyment out of watching Tony’s feeble efforts.</p><p>Eventually Stark wound down, realizing there was truly nothing he could do to the Mad Titan on his own.  Seeing this, Thanos slammed him into the ground hard enough to make Stark’s helmet fall apart.  Tony was only dazed for a few seconds until a green light emitted from the inside of his suit.  Thanos kindly waited, fist of doom cocked and ready, ensuring that this metal insect of a man would see his end coming. </p><p>Tony’s eyes snapped into focus on Thanos, taking in the meaning of the hovering fist instantly, and glared back defiantly.  Thanos’s fist flew forwards.</p><p>And stopped mere millimeters from the tinker’s face.  Thanos pulled his hand back and held Tony up to peer calmly into his glaring countenance, as if finding some interesting new form of fungus.</p><p>“No,” the Mad Titan said slowly.  “The thought of your own death doesn’t scare you.  Let’s see what you think about the deaths of your friends.”  Then he flung Tony through the shell, which immediately collapsed.  Tony’s unconscious form impacted a wall as the somewhat wrinkled suit’s healing protocols engaged again.</p><p>The rest of his meager opposition stood around Thanos, still clearly recovering from his earlier onslaught, but one figure caught his attention.  He turned to where Nebula had halted, a look that expertly mingled disappointment and anticipation.</p><p>“Nebula,” he muttered with menace, taking a step towards her.  That one step was all the further he got, for he was rudely interrupted by a massive green figure landing on him, as if trying to use him for a trampoline.</p><p>Hulk took advantage of his surprise by jumping up and down on Thanos several more times.  Then he grabbed the stunned titan by the neck and hurled him into the wall.  Thanos had barely rebounded before Hulk leapt forward, delivering a massive haymaker.  He followed that up with a relentless barrage of kicks, punches, and head buts; not to mention the yells and snarls that usually accompanied Hulk at work.</p><p>For a moment it looked as if the embodiment of rage would be able to keep the Mad Titan at bay all by himself.  But his attacks were too desperate, too easy to predict.  Eventually Thanos managed to regain enough wit to counter with a punch to Hulk’s chest.  As the green monster attempted to regain his balance the purple monster snatched one of his ankles and began using Hulk as a ball and chain against the others.  Had Banner been available, he would have sued for copyright infringement.</p><p>The flailing green monster’s attempts to extricate himself from the very position he’d put so many others in only made things worse as he was crashed into Avenger after Avenger.  Finally, Thanos threw the barely conscious Hulk into a wall.  The Titan immediately charged after his green play toy but, instead of more punishment, he simply grasped Hulk by the throat and peered into his eyes.</p><p>“You’ve got spirit,” he said sadistically, holding the Infinity Gauntlet up.  The green gem glowed and stream of green energy began to weave out of the Hulk’s body.  It was as if an invisible field surrounding Hulk had shifted to green and was being siphoned into the gem.</p><p>Hulk screamed in rage and tried to punch Thanos, but the titan was within his reach.  He tried to kick him, but couldn’t find leverage.  He tried to bearhug him, but that just pushed Thanos’s hand further into his throat.  And all the while his screams shifted from rage to frustration, to desperation.</p><p>Thor threw his hammer again, hoping that Thanos would be too busy sucking the essence out of his friend to counter it.  But it had barely left his hands when that massive head turned a patronizing look at him.  Then he reached his gauntleted hand out to catch the incoming hammer.  Hulk slumped against the wall, barely conscious, as the hand holding the Spirit Stone was retasked.</p><p>Gamora arrived before Thanos could claim Mjolnir, jamming her sword into a chink in his massive armor.  He screamed in rage, turning towards her just as the hammer impacted him in the head. </p><p>He dropped Hulk to the ground, spun counter clockwise, caught Gamora in his right hand, and slammed her into the wall, sword still sticking out of his armor.  As Hulk’s unconscious body hit the ground he began reverting back to Banner, in a manner far too reminiscent of Tony’s witch given nightmares.</p><p>“One green soul is as good as another,” Thanos grinned with malice as he pinned Gamora writhing figure, and again held up that green gem.  A moment later Gamora screamed.  Each scream only seemed to delight her ‘father’ more than the last.</p><p>Her screams didn’t last long.  Thanos quickly found other concerns for his attention as Nebula bounded forward and latched onto the sword.  She yanked back and forth on it viciously, as if it were a lever.</p><p>For a moment Thanos’s back arched in pain as the sword sawed through his incredibly tough body.  He dropped Gamora involuntarily and howled before twisting on his newest aggressor.  Nebula had barely completed two of the back and forth motions before his turn twisted the blade out of her grip, and he backhanded her across the room.</p><p>Pure fury burned in Thanos’s eyes as he telekinetically removed the sword and snapped it in two.  Nebula rolled over from where his blow had tossed her to see a visage she’d never known.  She’d thought she knew Thanos’s moods.  She’d thought she was prepared.  But all she could do was scoot backwards on her hands as he launched himself at her. </p><p>Everyone else still on their feet opened up on him with everything they had.  Quill fired his pistols as fast as they could charge.   Rocket went full rock and roll with his oddly disproportionately sized gun.  Thor channeled all the energy out of the Aether he could into a blast of electricity as thick as his torso.  Tony, conscious again, fired everything.  He launched mini-missiles, restraints, lasers, and his chest arc fired a beam of pure energy.</p><p>It barely slowed Thanos down.  He put one of those massive hands out to block Tony’s beam, and another to block Thor’s lightning.  Everything else he simply bulldozed through, like some unstoppable tank.</p><p>Nebula’s motion backward brought her to the ass end of the severed gun Tivan had used on her.  The gun she’d severed.  Without thinking she grabbed it and pointed it at the looming behemoth and pulled the trigger, all while still kicking further away from him with her feet.  She didn’t know if it would even work.  When she’d broken it, her intent had been to ensure it stopped working.  It was purely a reflexive desperate move. </p><p>But it did work, although the beam was not as stable as it had been.  Her eyes widened at the result.  She’d expected it to grab Thanos as it had grabbed her, not that she was certain of the value of such a maneuver.  But instead, the red wave of energy emitted from the gun created a wall of solid neutronium directly in the berserking titan’s path.  She quickly played the wave back and forth until the barrier had completely sealed off her side of the room.  There was a loud thump as Thanos barreled into the barrier, followed by a few more as he attempted to break through it. </p><p>Beneath that crashing sound was the rumbling counterpoint of her nominal allies’ continued assault.  Thor had run out of energy and fallen back on throwing his hammer at their relentless nemesis, actually denting its armor occasionally.  Tony was down to just his beams, his power supply’s dwindling status reflected in their strength.  But he seemed to be having some minimal effect.  At least the stench rising from their target was suggestive of cooking meat.  Spoiled, cooking meat.  He couldn’t help but wonder if that was the effect of the monster’s soul or his species.</p><p>On the other side of the spontaneous black wall Nebula allowed herself a breath.  She’d never seen anything stop Thanos before, but she’d never actually seen neutronium either.</p><p>She was just starting to breathe easier, when a suspiciously Thanos shaped section of the wall began to shimmer with a blue glow.  A second later the Thanos shaped emission emitted a Thanos shaped person.  The matching glow of the blue stone in his gauntlet subsided leaving an ordinary neutronium wall behind him.  The pelting and hammering of the others resumed but there was no changing the fact that she was alone.</p><p>Nebula raised the gun again reflexively, but this time Thanos held the gauntlet out.  The Aether began streaming out of the device towards it.  Nebula took one terrified look at the stream, dropped the weapon and raced towards the stairs.  As it completed its transition the glow of the other stones became muted and dull.</p><p>“Now where are you going in such a hurry?” Thanos asked, holding his other hand out to halt the Luphoid’s flight at the base of the stairs. </p><p>Nebula reflexively grabbed the handrail as Thanos attempted to real her in.  The section she clung to snapped threw it back along his line of sight causing Thanos’s telekinetic leash to switch to the closer target.  He snarled and mentally tossed the bar aside, but she had already disappeared up the access.</p><p>His gaze drifted upwards, searching for the sound of her mind, but it locked onto another’s first.  He listened for a moment, in bemused half interest, then realized what that mind had planned.  He crouched and gave a mighty leap that sent him crashing through the ceiling to the floor above.</p><p>Meanwhile Nebula charged back up the stairs.  “Rodent, you have to get back into the system,” she said, keying her mic.</p><p>“Well look who’s still alive,” came the laconic response.</p><p>Nebula ignored the greeting.  “Reactivate the security system,” she demanded.</p><p>“That’s a terrible idea,” Rocket replied, as they saw Thanos crash through their ceiling via the hole in its center.  The noise of his passage jerked Tony out of the rage filled gaze he’d been directing at the wall where Thanos had passed.  He glanced upwards to watch Thanos jump again through the next ceiling.  A large part of him wanted to follow, to chase the monster down despite the fact that he wasn’t a match for him.  Instead he jetted over to check on Banner.</p><p>“Wait, what’s a terrible idea?” Quill and Thor asked simultaneously.  They each glared at the other.</p><p>“That crazy psycho wants to turn the security systems back on,” Rocket explained.</p><p>“What for?” Gamora asked as they all heard Thanos leap through the next ceiling.</p><p>“What possible reason could she possibly have that would be good for us?” Rocket demanded.</p><p>“Because, The Collector had some way to get rid of Thanos, you moronic rat” Nebula nearly shouted.</p><p>“Oh,” Rocket replied.  He pulled his tablet back out and began working back through the system.</p><p>“Are you reactivating the security?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Rocket replied without stopping.</p><p>“I’m sorry didn’t you just say that was a terrible idea?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“Eh,” Rocket replied without stopping, somehow managing a full body shrug along the way.</p><p>“Hurry up,” Nebula insisted.</p><p>“Wait this is weird,” Rocket said a moment later.  “The system is already booting back up.”</p><p>“Tivan must be reactivating it,” Gamora said.</p><p>“Where is he?” Nebula asked, wondering if she could work killing the bastard in besides saving them all from Thanos.</p><p>“Looks like the commands are being entered from his office,” Rocket replied.  “One floor above the foyer.  Make a right and then a left after exiting the stairs.”</p><p>Tony looked up from where he’d been crouched over Banner.  The short biochemist appeared to be in a coma, but his vital signs were stable for the moment.  According to Friday he should have been awake. </p><p>“Friday do you know where that is?” he asked.  An overlay of the building’s floorplan superimposed itself on his heads-up display.  A line from his current position snaked up five flights through the prodigious hole he’d created, through the entry room’s ceiling, and down a corridor to a rather large room.  Tony gently set Bruce back on the rubble he’d fallen on and jetted upwards.</p><p>“Wait a minute,” Rocket added as the others made to follow him.  “Something’s wrong.  According to this the system’s reinitialized, but it hasn’t done anything.”</p><p>“Can you activate it from here?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“No, it has to be activated from The Collector’s office,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“What’s it supposed to do?” Thor asked.</p><p>“It looks like,” Rocket said, turning the display around as if not sure which way was up “yeah, it looks like it’s supposed to create a randomized transient wormhole that would shunt the target to the edge of the galaxy.”</p><p>“What good would that do?” Thor asked, doubtfully.  “He has the Tesseract.  He could use it to return just as quickly.”</p><p>“It might still buy us enough time to get out of here,” Quill replied, holding a hand out to Gamora.  She took it, placing her left boot on his right.  Quill placed his other hand around the small of her back and they jetted up to follow Stark.</p><p>As Stark reached their origin room, he cut an X in the ceiling of the foyer and shoulder slammed through the newly formed weak spot.  Those unfortunate enough to be below him dodge quickly out of the way of the falling debris.</p><p>“This will be a waste of time,” Thor prognosticated, twirling his hammer up anyways.</p><p>“You got a better plan?” Rocket asked, still engrossed in his readouts.</p><p>“Plans aren’t really my forte,” Thor replied with a grin before being pulled off of the ground by the hammer.  The smile died as the memory of the Kronan he’d tried to explained this act to intruded. </p><p>Rocket tracked his ascent and cursed.  His out of control flight had left him with a dead jet pack, not to mention a killer headache.  And thanks to the Indigo Psycho, the stairs to this level were cut off, effectively removing him from the fight.</p><p>“How do we activate this wormhole generator?” Quill asked.</p><p>Rocket zoomed in on Taneleer’s office.  “There should be a big yellow button in a recess at the center of his desktop,” Rocket told them.  “The system’s already targeting Thanos.  You should just have to press it.”</p><p>“Then why hasn’t Tivan activated it?” Gamora asked over the comm.</p><p>“How should I . . . oh crap,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“Wait, what’s ‘oh crap’?” Quill asked.</p><p>“I don’t know why The Collector hasn’t hit the button but it’s a good thing.”</p><p>“How could that possibly be a good thing?” Gamora demanded.</p><p>“Because it turns out that Thanos wasn’t the only adversary The Collector thought was worth getting rid of,” he explained as he resumed manipulating the controls.</p><p>“You mean he has us all targeted?” Quill demanded.</p><p>“Rocket you have to hack back into his system and change the targeting parameters,” Gamora ordered.</p><p>“No, really?” Rocket snapped.  “Gee, and I was just sitting here counting my toes.”</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Nebula rounded the last corner to the hall in front of The Collector’s office and lurched to a stop as she saw Thanos standing in the entrance.  There was a massive hole in the floor just past him.  He had one hand out in his standard ‘I’m channeling my telekinetic ability’ gesture. </p><p>Through the windows lining the corridor long office Nebula was able to see Tivan standing at his desk, finger perched over a button in the center.  He appeared to be struggling with all his might to lower that one hand.  As she watched, his facial features shifted from frantic, to fear, and finally rested on abject terror as he realized how completely powerless he truly was.</p><p>Thanos watched the play of emotions on his victim’s face, his delight increasing inversely with his victim’s fear.  He turned to look directly at Nebula, and grinned in anticipation at the matching expression on her face.  Before he could make good on the threat that look had delivered a red shape crashed through the floor at the other end of the hall. </p><p>Nebula hadn’t survived under that monster as long as she had without recognizing an opportunity when it presented itself.  This was her chance.  All she had to do was jump through the window and get to that button while that suited figure kept his attention.  That’s all.</p><p>But her fear rooted her in place.  It was as if she was still that little girl Thanos had sadistically kept alive, with no power to resist and no ability to fight back.  She couldn’t move a muscle; not even an artificial one.</p><p>Whatever issues she was having were not in evidence in the suited figure.  As Thanos turned towards the sound that figure jetted towards him firing everything he had left.  Missiles erupted from the suit’s forearms and collar bone area and streaked down various sides of the corridor.</p><p>Thanos calmly caught them telekinetically.  But, while he was busy with that, the suited figure’s forearm emitted a laser.  Instead of wasting its dwindling energy on the Mad Titan’s armor he directed it at the portion of floor he was currently standing on.  A moment later that flooring collapsed under his massive weight.</p><p>Again, Nebula knew she had a chance.  She knew Thanos’s attention would be completely occupied by the split between maintaining his hold on Tivan and dealing with that suicidal assault.  She knew it, but still she couldn’t make herself do what had to be done.</p><p>Meanwhile Thanos caught himself in the hole, bracing his body against it with a leg.  Then he ripped a girder member from the hole and hurled it at the rapidly advancing suit.  Tony tried to dodge out of the way but in so doing he managed to put his left leg in the way of the projectile.  The collision sent him careening against the walls.</p><p>While he was busy acting as a pachinko ball, Thanos pulled himself from the hole.  He then bent down and ripped another piece of structural member as long as Nebula’s arm from the hole, and cast it directly at the immobilized Collector.  The ageless Elder caught the improvised spear in the chest and was hurled backwards to be pinned against the wall behind his desk.</p><p>As Tony began to rise a bolt of energy sizzled past him to impact Thanos in the face.  The Mad Titan recoiled from the hit as Stark turned to see Quill and Gamora standing just inside the hole he’d made.  A second later Thanos reopened his eyes and glared down the hall at the duo.</p><p>Quill charged, unleashing a barrage of shots from his weapons.  Thanos countered by ripping a piece of the doorframe off and launching back.  Before it could hit its target, Stark adjusted its vector with a repulsor blast.</p><p>Outraged, Thanos picked Stark up telekinetically and hurled him through the wall opposite The Collector’s spacious office.  He tried the same thing with Quill but a well-aimed shot to the right eye convinced him otherwise.</p><p>He roared and charged the much smaller man.  As they met, he attempted to grab him in one of those torso sized fists.  Peter, anticipating this, dodged below his arm and activated his thrusters to send him sliding past the enraged monster, all without letting up on his stream of gnat like attacks.  Thanos turned pinning Quill with a feral look.</p><p>“Gamora, how about a little help,” he said as he caught the wild fury in their adversary’s eyes.  But she was having the same issues Nebula was.  She’d thought she was prepared for this.  She thought she’d finally be able to stand up to the monster.  But all she could think about was how nothing they were doing really mattered.  All of their attempts were little more than delaying actions.  They couldn’t stop Thanos.  They couldn’t even really hurt him.  All they could do was piss him off.  The others didn’t know what that meant, but the two sisters knew.  And, despite the fact that she’d probably already earned worse, she just couldn’t bring herself to dig that particular grave any deeper.  She couldn’t move.  She couldn’t think.  She could barely breath.</p><p>“Gamora!” Quill yelled just before Thanos unleashed a low backhand that sent him flying the opposite direction.  Nebula instinctively stepped to her right to avoid the encounter, but at the last minute extended her left arm to catch the ballistic rogue.  The impact slid them back a few feet before she set him back on the ground.  “Thanks,” he muttered, more in surprise than anything else, before jetting back into the fight.</p><p>This time Thanos stood his ground, a superior smile spreading across his face.  Again, before he could enact whatever he was planning he took a hit from Mjolnir in the back of the head.  The blow staggered him forward a step.  He reached up to feel the back of his head before turning and charging directly at Thor standing where he’d exited the hole.</p><p>Enheartened by actually having caused damage to the Thanos, Thor hurled his hammer again.  His eyes widened as Thanos caught the legendary hammer and hurled it aside.  Then he was on them.  Thor tried to call his hammer back, but was punched down the corridor for his trouble.     Gamora backpedaled furiously as Thanos turned his attentions on her.  She dodged frantically while managing to misdirect the few blows she couldn’t completely evade. </p><p>Nebula could tell Gamora was barely fending his onslaught off.  Any moment now some strike or other would get through her guard.  And even if the first hit didn’t kill her it would hurt her enough for Thanos to finish the job.</p><p>As far as she was concerned, they were all fools for trying to fight that fight.  They had no game plan.  There was no way they could beat Thanos heads up.  Their only exit plan relied on a talking fox to hack into the system that had already fooled him once; by the time he’d done that they’d all be dead.  And that was the best outcome they could hope for.</p><p>And she was even more a fool for not using that opportunity to escape.  But she couldn’t leave, no matter how she railed against herself for making that choice.  Yet she couldn’t help either.  She was stuck in a twisted form of limbo, knowing what would happen but powerless to change it.</p><p>Fortunately, she didn’t have to; before Thanos could land that deadly blow that metal suit burst from through the wall and shoulder checked him into the wall, shattering its window.  Thanos retaliated immediately, backhanding the metal man with his right arm and kicking at Gamora with his left leg.  Tony took the hit square on the armor, but Gamora dodge rolled out of the way.</p><p>The metal man went flying, to regain control about ten meters down the corridor.  “You know, anytime you’d like to help,” he said to Nebula.</p><p>Meanwhile Gamora’s dodge had put her directly in the path of Thanos’s returning right fist.  And it would have hit too, if Thor’s hammer hadn’t once again impacted the back of the raging titan’s skull, causing him to stumble and miss his target.</p><p>“You keep forgetting about me,” Thor said as he stomped down the corridor, hammer in hand.  “Why is that?”</p><p>“Well, you did say he was ancient,” Tony replied from where he was hovering next to Nebula.  “Might be suffering a touch of senility; it’s fairly common amongst the elderly.  You know,” he added directing his comment at Thanos “they say the odds double every five years after sixty.  Perhaps you’d consider-” he added, ending in a grunt as Thanos reached out telekinetically and yanked Tony towards him.  Just before they collided Thanos sidestepped Tony’s ballistic flight, giving him a view of something he’d never wanted to see again: Thor’s hammer coming right at him. </p><p>Fortunately, Thor’s reflexes were up to the task.  He recalled his hammer a suit soiling five millimeters from Tony’s face.  Tony jetted to a stop just before ramming his friend.</p><p>“Now I know how a ping pong ball feels,” he muttered as he kicked a wall to spin himself around.</p><p>“You will soon know how a spitted animal feels,” Thanos replied snatching Gamora up and throwing her like a rubber javelin at the other two.  Tony immediately angled his palm repulsors to intersect just in front of her and fired.  The resulting shock wave slowed her flight down to manageable levels.</p><p>“No thanks,” Tony replied as he caught the projectile of a woman and set her down.  Then the three of them charged.  Thanos acted in kind.  As he passed the door to the office, Quill stepped out from where he’d stationed himself in the hopes that Rocket would succeed in his task and peppered the titan’s back with shots of varying elements.</p><p>The two groups merged much like a bowling ball contacting pins.  In this case the ‘pins’ had enough forethought to dodge out of the way of the ‘bowling ball’, but the result was the same.  The five then devolved into a wild melee.  It looked an awful lot like a pack of dogs trying to bring down a silver backed gorilla.  As the gorilla would strike the target would recoil, and the others would attempt to take advantage of any openings left by the strike. </p><p>And still Nebula watched on.  She was surprised at how long they’d held up.  Some part of her was awed at their refusal to accept reality.  They were only making things worse for themselves.  Such rebellious behavior was always factored into Thanos’s punishments.  Then everything changed.</p><p>“Guys, I did it.  Hit the button,” the fox nearly yelled over the radio.  “Guys can you hear me?” he added when no response was forthcoming.  “Guys,” he asked again, concern creeping into his voice.</p><p>“Rodger,” the suited man said before trying to jet past Thanos.  The Titan was up to that challenge, grabbing his leg and breaking the thruster on that boot before chucking him back the way he’d come.  Gamora tried as well, with similar results. </p><p>In a moment of shared recognition, they all saw the failure of their last chance unfolding itself.  They had a tiger by its tail.  They couldn’t let go, and they could only hold on for so long. </p><p>But Nebula didn’t have that issue; she was on the other side of the hall.  And suddenly resistance didn’t seem as futile as she’d thought.  She dove through the window of the office, rolled to her feet, and sprinted towards the terminal.</p><p>She almost made it.  But Thanos caught her telekinetically with one outstretched arm, and lifted her helplessly into the air above her goal.  He was toying with her she knew, keeping her just out of reach of their salvation, helpless to intervene in what was coming.  Then that massive hand turned into a fist and the invisible force holding her began constricting.</p><p>She groaned in pain and anger.  It was hard to tell who she was angrier at: Thanos for the pain she’d known he’d bring, or herself for being foolish enough to act against him.  Not that it mattered.  This was a warning not to fight anymore.  He could do worse, had done worse in the past.</p><p>But, for some reason she couldn’t just watch, so she pulled one of her stun clubs out of its holster and hurled it at the button.  But a flick of the Thanos’s wrist sent it sailing off target.  Then he snapped his fingers.</p><p>Pain coursed throughout her body, just as it had when she’d fought Ebony Maw.  But this time it was worse.  She shrieked once as she fought to adjust to the new level of torment, but it was hard.  She’d never felt anything like this.  She writhed in agony as much as Thanos’s hold would allow her too.  It was as if every nerve ending in her body had been turned against her.  It took a massive effort of will just to stay conscious through it.</p><p>As Nebula fought her punishment Gamora finally managed to push through the fears that had held her back.  Instead she raged at the titan, going on a flashing offensive.  His need to retain some control on his levitated victim rooted him somewhat, allowing several attacks to get through his guard.  But still he wouldn’t release Nebula.</p><p>The others followed suit.  Thanos dodged Thor’s hammer, turned his armor to take the brunt of Quill’s weapons, and fended Gamora off with his other arm, blocking her sword with his gauntleted hand.</p><p>But that left Stark free.  He blasted his way through the window, making a beeline for the terminal.  He was half way there when Nebula’s body suddenly slammed into him.  The force knocked him to the ground.  He tried to get back up but her body hammered him back into the ground like a sledgehammer before rising back up.  As she reached the apex of Thanos’s swing her eyes snapped open and locked on Stark.</p><p>But, just as Thanos prepared another slam Thor managed to sweep one of his legs, dropping him to one knee.  Thanos immediately twisted to punch the Asgardian on his way down.  Nebula’s body followed the motion, slamming through the office wall.</p><p>“Stop it!” Gamora screamed, picking up the broken hilt of her sword and jamming it under Thanos’s outstretched hand.  The move was a bit of a win loss situation.  Win, because she actually caused him to growl in pain.  Loss, because it left her completely open for his returning punch.  Then she was the one crashing through the wall.</p><p>Tony analyzed the situation in a flash.  Thanos had made it clear he’d use the blue woman as a wrecking ball to keep everyone away from the console, but that one brief moment of eye contact was enough to show that she was awake.  Based on the pain erupting from her face it was doubtful she’d even felt the impacts, such were the depths of her torment.  But she was conscious, and he’d seen one more stun stick on her back.  But she needed to be in the room.</p><p>“Sorry about this,” he muttered as he jetted up and back towards the console again.  As predicted, Nebula came flying back out of the hole her passage had made towards him.  He immediately thrusted against his momentum, trying to stop himself inside her arc.</p><p>Thanos corrected her flight, causing the two forms to collide with sadistic glee.  Tony immediately pushed her up and jetted back at the monster with everything his suit had left.  Thanos prepared to receive him with anticipation, but before he could Thor hammered the blade fragment stuck under his arm further into his massive shoulder.  Nebula’s eyes flew open as the pain response caused him to squeeze her even tighter.</p><p>He instinctively turned to deal with the Asgardian, but by then Tony was on him.  But instead of a worthless punch or missile he channeled all the energy of his repulsors into a pure burst of white light emitted just centimeters from the monster’s face.</p><p>The flash was so bright that only two people weren’t blinded, even if only for a moment.  Friday, sensing what her boss was up to, damped the flash down on his heads-up display.  And Nebula had the dual advantages of her cerebral processors to help dampen the flash, and the fact that she was shielded from it by Tony’s suit.</p><p>Tony was the only one to see her simultaneously draw her remaining stun stick, twist in midair, and cast the projectile directly at the button.  He turned back around to be confronted by an enraged Thanos.  A Thanos who’d clearly regained his sight.  Tony raised one hand and waved at the Titan with its fingers tauntingly.  Thanos tried to make a grab at him, but was immediately sucked into a wormhole and gone.</p><p>Quill dove into the hole Gamora’s passage had created.  Tony and Thor got back to their feet warily, as if expecting Thanos to reappear at any moment.</p><p>“Why does he not return using the Tesseract?” Thor asked, when no Mad Titan appeared.</p><p>“He can’t,” A voice whispered from the office.  They followed it to find The Collector barely alive.</p><p>“What was that?” Tony asked, as he scanned the elder’s body.  Unfortunately, his physique was such that he had no idea how to repair his injuries, if that was even possible.</p><p>“The stones,” Tivan replied as if out of breath “may have come from one being.  But they don’t . . . play well, together.”</p><p>“And the gauntlet forces them to,” Thor countered.</p><p>Tivan grinned mirthlessly.  “Children,” he spat before dying.</p><p>“What the hell does that mean?” Tony asked.</p><p>“If you think you can get answers from a dead man your welcome to try,” Thor replied waving his hand invitingly towards said dead elder.</p><p>While they puzzled that out Quill was busy following the trail Gamora’s passage had created.  She’d apparently been punched through two rooms ending up imbedded on the far wall of the second.  Quill’s heart began racing as he saw her, and sped up further when he took in her unconscious form.</p><p>A wave of panic exploded in his chest as he rushed across the room to her.  He wasn’t sure if he could handle her being dead.  It was funny really; not too long ago he’d cared for no one but himself.  Now the thought of losing her was almost more than he could handle.</p><p>“Gamora,” he called out as reached her.  Her eyelids fluttered.  “Oh, thank god,” he exclaimed, perhaps crying a little bit.  “Hold on, I’ll get you out of there,” he added.</p><p>“What happened?” she asked as he braced his foot against the wall.</p><p>“You got punched through a few walls,” Quill replied.</p><p>“I know that,” Gamora snapped as he grabbed her hands.</p><p>“On one,” he told her, ignoring her comment.  She nodded in agreement.  “One,” he said before straining.  A moment later she popped out of the wall, landing on a hand and both knees.  She rose quickly, nearly losing her balance.  Quill put a hand out to steady her.</p><p>“Thanks,” she said, in a most uncharacteristic display of gratitude.  “Is,” she asked before stopping.  Somehow asking if Thanos was still there seemed stupid.  After all, he hadn’t come after them yet, there were no loud crashing sounds coming from the adjacent areas, nor any screams.  Yet she couldn’t seem to believe they might have gained a victory over the monster, no matter how fleeting.  It made sense, but she physically couldn’t get her hopes up.</p><p>“Your deranged father’s gone,” Quill answered anyway.  “Let’s get out of here before he comes back,” he added as he helped her back the way they’d come.  The encounter had not left her unscathed.  She was pressing one arm tightly against her ribs and limping badly.</p><p>They made it back to the office just as Tony was trying to help Nebula up.  She responded by lurching to her feet and unleashing a wild haymaker in his direction before falling against the desk, still in obvious pain.  A moment later she slipped back to the floor.</p><p>“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Quill called out.</p><p>“Well then you get her,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that if I were <em>me</em> either,” Quill returned, without moving.</p><p>“Then what do you suggest?” Thor asked a bit testily.  “Because if you think our victory here won’t be answered you’re a fool,” he added just as a massive blast shook the entire complex, knocking all assembled down.</p><p>“Friday what was that?” Tony asked, as he got back to his feet.</p><p>“An energy blast equivalent to a sixty-megaton warhead,” she replied.  “The facility’s shields are holding for now.  However, relocation to another area is recommended.”</p><p>“She’s right,” Thor said, standing back up.</p><p>“Then let’s <em>all</em> get out of here,” Gamora suggested rather forcefully.</p><p>Tony turned back to where Nebula was trying to pull herself up.  Quivering muscles were making that simple task extremely difficult.  “Friday what’s-?” He asked before being interrupted by another blast.  They were able to keep their feet this time, though Gamora needed Quill’s help to do it.</p><p>Before anyone could respond Rocket’s, voice came over the radio.  “Uh, guys?” he asked uncertainly.</p><p>“Rocket we’re all here,” Quill replied keying his radio.  “More or less,” he added with a glance at Gamora.</p><p>“And when were you going to tell me that?!” Rocket snapped.  “Didn’t it even occur to you that I might like to know you weren’t all paste on the deck plates?  Of all the ungrateful, rude-” he started before being cut off.</p><p>“Look I’m sorry all right,” Peter replied.  “We got distracted.”</p><p>“Rocket how’s the human that’s with you?” Gamora asked before the two of them got into another useless fight.</p><p>“He’s stable but unconscious,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“All right, keep an eye on him,” she commanded.  “We’ll come and get you.”  Her statement was punctuated by another blast.</p><p>“Would it be too much to ask you to make it before the entire building is turned into our final resting place?” Rocket replied sarcastically.  She chose not to respond.</p><p>“Friday, what’s wrong with her?” Tony asked again.</p><p>“Probably a healthy dose of guilt mingled with a fear of retribution for her crimes, I’d guess,” Thor muttered, drawing a dirty look.</p><p>“Scanning,” Friday replied, ignoring Thor’s comment.</p><p> “And I suppose you’ve never done a terrible deed,” Stark replied to Thor’s comment, looking up at the dust floating down from the ceiling.</p><p>“I may have made mistakes, but I didn’t revel in them,” Thor replied, doing the same.  “She’s wanted by at least twelve governments.  Odin decreed her death for the massacre of two entire villages of his subjects; nearly a thousand civilians butchered.”</p><p>“And then there’s the fact that she tried to steal the stone,” Quill added, gaining a dirty look from Gamora.</p><p>“Not to mention the fact that she stood by for most of the fight and did nothing,” Thor agreed.</p><p>“So . . . what?” Tony asked over his shoulder.  “We just leave her here; like this?”</p><p>“We are not leaving her,” Gamora insisted vehemently, trying to step forward and dropping to one knee in pain for her trouble.  Quill bent down worriedly, to check on her just as another blast hit.</p><p>“Well, I guess you can’t argue with that,” Tony said turning back to Nebula.  She’d managed to get herself back into a sitting position and was regarding the lot of them with the air of a wounded dog that had been beaten regularly.  “Time to go,” Tony said extending an arm.  She instinctively lurched away from the gauntleted hand, falling to the floor in the process.</p><p>“Friday?” Tony asked.</p><p>“I find no evidence of any nerve stimulus that could remotely cause this effect, Boss,” the AI replied.  “Whatever is happening to her must be caused by her cerebral implant.”</p><p>“Can you hack into it?” Tony asked.  Friday’s response was interrupted quite rudely buy another blast.</p><p>“Once more but without the Earth shattering kaboom?” Tony asked after the shockwave subsided.</p><p>“I am not familiar with the programming language running the implants,” Friday repeated.  “I am attempting to search the local information net for any relating educational materials.”</p><p>“Well, keep at it,” Stark added before returning his attention to the blue woman sprawled just out of arms reach on the floor.</p><p>“Of course, Boss,” Friday replied, in a tone suggesting more than a hint of sarcasm.</p><p>Tony ignored it, instead reaching a gauntleted hand out.  “It’s time to go; now,” he told her.  She didn’t move, instead regarding his hand as if it were a weapon.  Another blast hit.  This time the shield covering the complex dimmed visibly as it imposed itself against murderous bolt.</p><p>“We’re running out of time,” Thor commented pointedly.</p><p> “Thank you Captain Obvious,” Quill replied as he helped Gamora up once again.</p><p>“Just a second,” Tony said before turning back to Nebula.</p><p>“When did you become so noble?” Thor asked, only half-jokingly.</p><p>“I’m channeling Cap,” Tony replied in kind.</p><p>In the back of the room Gamora glanced up at Quill.  “What’s a ‘Cap’?” she whispered.</p><p>“A hat as far as I know,” Quill whispered back.</p><p>Tony ignored the byplay in favor of fixing Nebula with as stern a visage as he could manage.  “You’d prefer to stay here?” he asked rhetorically before indicating his outstretched arm with a nod.  Despite the question’s one-sided nature, she took quite some time to reach her decision; far longer than could be explained by the facts of the case.   But, in the end, she reached her left arm out.</p><p>It was barely in Tony’s gauntleted hand before she passed out.  He quickly pulled her over and maneuvered her into a sitting position.  Then he stood, lifting her unconscious form effortlessly from the ground.  Another blast was all the encouragement he needed to rush out the door.</p><p>“I don’t understand,” Quill said as he passed them “why is the ship firing so slowly.  They could have destroyed this entire colony by now.”</p><p>“The ship’s weapons are slow firing but devastating,” Nebula explained in pained tones as they followed.  “And there are a lot of buildings obstructing sight lines.”</p><p>“Since when has Thanos cared about collateral damage?” Thor asked as he brought up the rear.  Up ahead Tony had shifted Nebula to a fireman’s carry to compensate for the lack of one boot jet.  He completed the maneuver just as he reached the hole he’d created in the floor and dropped out of sight.</p><p>“Because,” Gamora gasped as they reached the hole “the more people he leaves alive now, the greater the death toll later.”  She quickly limped onto one of Quill’s boots, suppressing a shudder of pain as his arm secured her.  He then activated his jets as carefully as possible and maneuvered them expertly over the hole before cutting the power back and dropping them expertly through it.</p><p>“Makes sense,” Thor replied to himself as he waited for them to clear his path.  As they landed, he casually stepped into the hole.</p><p>He landed as Tony was straightening up from setting Nebula’s twitching form down.  Mantis joined the converging group from the table she’d been strategically concealed under.</p><p>“Keep an eye on things,” Tony told Thor.  “I’ll get Banner,” he added, making for the hole that had once been the center of the room.  Gamora glanced an order at Quill.  A concerned look crossed his face, but was interrupted by a hardening of hers.  He set her down with a sigh and followed.</p><p>“Rocket,” Gamora said over the mic as she eased herself down next to Nebula.</p><p>“Are you coming or not?” a gruff voice replied.</p><p>“Quill’s on the way,” she said quickly just as that worthy dropped down the hole.  “I need you to hack into Nebula’s cerebral implant.”</p><p>“What?!” Rocket yelled.  “No, good job Rocket?  Just on to the next system intrusion?”</p><p>“Rocket!” Gamora replied forcefully before hissing at the pain the outburst had engendered.</p><p>“Fine,” he grumbled.  “What is it you want me to do, disable her?” he asked.</p><p>“That’s already been handled,” Gamora replied bitterly.  “Her cerebral implant is torturing her.  I need you to shut down whatever’s causing it.”</p><p>“Oh, is that all?” Rocket replied sarcastically as he hopped on Quill’s shoulder.  He secured himself to the star rogue’s jacket and expanded his tablet back out, looking for connection points. </p><p>Stark had already landed and was in the process of checking on Banner.  “Banner,” Tony called out, gently tapping his face with his gauntlet in an attempt to wake his friend.  “Bruce!” he called out louder when his efforts proved fruitless.</p><p>Banner jerked slightly at the outburst and opened his eyes.  “Tony,” he mumbled in confusion as he rubbed his face.  Whatever else he might be he was certainly not a morning person.  “Wha-” he started before the memories of recent events broke back into his consciousness.  “Did we win?” he asked, taking a glance around.</p><p>“It’s more of a stalemate,” Tony replied helping his friend up.  “Come on,” he added providing an arm to hold onto “we’ve got to go.”  For emphasis the room shook again, violently this time.  They had to dodge out from under a falling piece of ceiling.</p><p>“Get on,” Tony told Banner, indicating his boots.</p><p>“I don’t suppose now is a time to mention my fear of heights?” Banner asked as he stepped carefully on the flimsy toe holds, one hand holding his somewhat enlarged pants around his waist.</p><p>Tony wrapped the arm opposite his broken boot jet around him for security.  “Care to dance?” he asked sarcastically.  Banner’s no doubt dry response was altered to a scream as Tony launched them into the air.</p><p>A moment later a final blast pierced the protective shield that had defended them so loyally, crashing right through the center of the complex.  Tony accelerated as he reached the foyer.  Banner’s voice increased to match.</p><p>The others were not in sight.  Clearly, they’d decided that discretion was indeed the better part of waiting and high tailed it.  That was probably for the best considering how much trouble Stark was having dodging around the falling debris.  The makeshift obstacle course would have been impossible to deal with if he’d had to contend with other escapees also contending with it.</p><p>He’d no more than thought as much before he burst out the front door directly into said contenders.  He juked hard, losing Banner in the process.  The diminutive scientist tumbled to a stop as Stark thrusted backwards at full power.</p><p>“Please don’t turn, please don’t turn, please don’t turn,” he begged as if it were some sort of mantra.  But when Banner didn’t turn, he couldn’t help but be worried.  It wasn’t like the monster to pass up such an obvious chance to stretch his legs . . . and his arms, and . . . well everything.  Tony rushed over to check on his friend, but before he could make it the target of his concern groaned and rolled over.</p><p>“Next time we take the train,” Banner mumbled to himself as he stared at the sky.</p><p>“You didn’t turn,” Tony said a moment later, in bewilderment.</p><p>“You sound disappointed,” Bruce replied, holding a hand out for a help.  Tony reflexively pulled him to his feet.</p><p>“It’s not that, exactly,” Stark said even as he wondered if he wasn’t just a bit.  The Hulk had always been their secret weapon.  The unstoppable force.  Now that he hadn’t come out to play it seemed somehow . . . wrong.</p><p>“I hate to break up this little bromance you two seem to have going here,” Gamora cut in “but we need to get out of here, and Drax is still on your ship.”</p><p>“Drax?” Tony asked as he examined the assembled party.  Thor had Nebula draped over one massive shoulder.  Quill was still acting as Gamora’s walking stick.  Rocket and Mantis were watching from a distance.</p><p>“Our crew member,” Gamora snapped.  “Big blue guy, knives as long as your forearm; ring any bells?”  Tony ignored her tone to cast a questioning glance at Thor.</p><p>“He was hit with some sort of poison,” Thor answered, gaining Banner’s attention.  “I told them to use our med bay,” he added with a single shoulder shrug.</p><p>“What kind of poison?” Banner asked, stepping forward.</p><p>“No one knows,” Gamora replied.</p><p>“Well that’s helpful,” Banner replied.</p><p>“Look, how about we deal with this on the ships,” Quill cut in uncharacteristically, causing the rest of the guardians to stop and stare at him.  Usually he’d have been the one starting an argument as opposed to playing peacemaker.</p><p>“Fine,” Stark replied “you two might as well come with us, seeing as we’ve turned into a floating urgent care and all.”</p><p>“Great,” Quill replied maneuvering Gamora forward.  “Rocket, you grab the ship,” he added without looking back.  “Meet us on course, two light years from Avina.”</p><p>“Right,” Rocket replied as he scampered off.</p><p>“I’ll go with you, if that’s all right,” Mantis said to Quill.</p><p>“I guess that’s up to the ferry man,” Quill replied.</p><p>Tony glanced at Thor, gaining another one shoulder shrug.  “Go ahead,” he said before turning back to Banner.  “So, Bruce,” he said.  “Feel up to some chemistry?”</p><p>“I thought you’d never ask,” Banner replied with just a hint of bitterness to his tone.  Clearly, he hadn’t forgotten the main reason he’d been brought along.  “What, wait!” he yelled as Tony snatched him back up and blasted for the ship.  The others followed as fast as they could.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Nebula</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Nostromo Medical Bay</p><p>Two Light Years from Avina</p><p> </p><p>“What’s wrong with her?” Gamora asked as she watched Nebula’s unconscious form.  Or what she could see of it.  Her sister’s torso was covered by a diagnostic panel from hips to neck.  Gamora had raised some concern about the state of Nebula’s mind should she wake up in what certainly looked like a restraint.  Banner had assured her that Nebula would be out for several hours . . . he thought.  In the interim, it was helping them figure out just what Nebula’s cerebral implant was doing to her.</p><p>“Her implant’s triggering pain directly, as if her brain was receiving impulses from her body,” Banner said.  “I’ve sedated her.  That’s about all I can do.  As to treatment you’d have to ask them,” he added, indicating the cluster comprised of Rocket, Stark, Vision, and Friday off in one corner before turning back to the stasis pod in the corner. </p><p>The first thing Banner had done was to administer the sedative suggested in the med bay’s database as effective on Luphoids.  Thankfully the database had also been able to <em>identify</em> Luphoids.  Then he’d turned his attention to his other patients.</p><p>Gamora had required bone regeneration on her broken ribcage, but the med bay had been up to that task.  The rest of her injuries had pretty much healed of their own accord before he’d had a chance to do anything. </p><p>That left just Drax.  Vision had taken one look at the blue berserker and put him in stasis the moment Groot had dragged him aboard.  That had only slowed the wound’s deterioration to a barely noticeable crawl, meaning he was probably going to be forced to operate on an unknown species with unfamiliar tools.  Or he could just let their nominal ally die.</p><p>“Well?” Gamora asked, turning on the group ending the hour or so argument they’d been waging.  It had started shortly after they’d clustered there and continued like some sort of war as they worked through the code in Nebula’s head.</p><p>“Well,” Rocket said finally “we’re fairly certain we’ve found the algorithms responsible for her condition, and we’ve changed the frequencies that activated them.”</p><p>“Good, get rid of them,” Gamora ordered.</p><p>“We can’t,” Tony replied.  “Those algorithms are woven through the implant’s operating system.  If we were to simply delete them . . .” he added with an apologetic shrug.</p><p>“It would kill her,” Vision finished.</p><p>“I believe it would be possible to leave the algorithms intact while disabling those specific functions,” Friday added.</p><p> “But such an act would require a thorough study of the entire system,” Vision finished.</p><p>“Would you two stop that?” Rocket asked, irritated.  Vision and Friday had been on the same wavelength since they’d started working together.  Tony’d never realized just how annoying that could be to an audience, but apparently it was even more annoying to evolved racoons.</p><p>Vision looked uncertainly to Stark, then back to Rocket.  “I am unsure of the source of your irritation,” he replied.</p><p>“You!” Rocket almost yelled.</p><p>“It’s the way you and the AI keep finishing each other’s thoughts,” Gamora explained.</p><p>“That’s an odd thing to get upset over,” Friday commented.</p><p>“Indeed,” Vision replied.</p><p>“Would you two just go away?” Rocket demanded.</p><p>“That would not be wise,” Vision replied.</p><p>“You need our help,” Friday agreed.</p><p>“Right there,” Rocket yelled holding his arms in front of him in frustration “You just did it again!”</p><p>“They have a point,” Stark put in.</p><p>“Oh please,” Rocket sneered.  “An hour ago, none of you’d ever seen this language.”</p><p>“Which puts us on the same starting point as you,” Tony reminded him.</p><p>“You’d never seen this language before, Rocket?” Gamora asked, adding a slightly surprised look to the question.</p><p>“Well, it’s similar to a couple I know,” he said slowly with a glare at Stark “but it appears that your psycho daddy created his own programming language for his torture implements.”</p><p>“That sounds like him,” Gamora replied, her entire countenance darkening like an eclipse.  “Wait,” she added as his words sunk in “are you suggesting that her cerebral implant is just a torture device?”</p><p>“It does provide certain benefits, such as faster processing ability, better sight rendering, and a certain base level scanning ability,” Friday replied.</p><p>“But it does appear that its main function was to serve as a means of punishment,” Stark said.</p><p>“But it only started torturing her recently,” Gamora argued.</p><p>“Not quite,” Rocket said uncomfortably tugging at one ear.  “The program has a setting for how much pain she feels.  We’ve dialed that down as low as it can go, but we can’t get it to drop below twenty percent.”</p><p>“So . . .” Gamora said, asking for a clarification she was fairly certain she didn’t want to hear.  Tony and Rocket shifted uncomfortably.  It seemed that they were all equally reticent to provide an explanation as Gamora was to hear it.</p><p>“Based on my medical database,” Friday answered finally “it would probably feel like a hyper-extended joint . . . all over her body.”  Gamora emitted a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a growl as they all turned to look at the object of their discussion.</p><p>“How high was it?” Gamora asked, partially afraid to find out.</p><p>“The level was set at 100%,” Vision stated bluntly.</p><p>“What would that have felt like?” Gamora whispered.</p><p>“It would be akin to being submerged in lava,” Friday supplied.  Thus followed a pregnant silence, as they all tried to imagine exactly how terrible that was.  None of them could truly grasp the implication, perhaps due to a safety set on their psyches.</p><p>“I’ll have Friday keep working on it,” Stark assured her eventually.  “In the meantime, I’d like to know what The Collector meant about the stones not getting along,” he added stepping past her to a terminal.</p><p>“What do you mean ‘the stones don’t get along’?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“That’s what I’d like to know,” Tony said as he began running searches on the galactic information net.</p><p>“That’s what the collector told us,” Thor explained from the doorway “while the star thief was off collecting you.”</p><p>“It’s Star Lord,” Gamora corrected without thinking.</p><p>“You rang?” Quill asked, as he squeezed past Thor.  Gamora’s cheeks turned a darker shade of green; a sign of embarrassment.</p><p>“I believe this belongs to you,” Thor added with a wave indicating the rogue.</p><p>“Sounds close,” Quill replied, crossing the room to the green tinted woman. </p><p>“You have any problems?” Stark asked without looking up.</p><p>“None.  Their ship is lashed to the deck and I’ve had Heimdall set course for Earth.  He estimates we’ll be there in two days.”</p><p>Meanwhile Quill had made it over to Gamora.  “Gamora,” he said, taking her hand “I will always be your Star Lord,” he told her, bringing the ensnared hand up to his mouth for a kiss.</p><p>Before he could finish that particular maneuver from the book of suave (page 34 2<sup>nd</sup> paragraph) Gamora yanked her hand free, suddenly irritated.  “Quill stop it,” she snapped, angling past him towards the other end of the room.</p><p>“Yes, please stop it,” Banner replied from the other end of the room.</p><p>“I’ll second that notion,” Stark agreed without looking away from his console.</p><p>“Thirded,” Rocket piped up.  “Is that right?” he added uncertainly.</p><p>“Fourthed,” Thor responded before anyone could put forth Robert’s Rules of Order.</p><p>“That’s not exactly,” Banner started before deciding it was a waste of time and finishing with “never mind.”</p><p>“You all lack romance,” Quill complained before shrugging and stepping over to where Tony was working.  “So, what’s this about the stones not cooperating?” He asked.</p><p>Tony granted him an irritated glance.  “You now know as much as I do,” he said finally, fingers flying over the interface.  The first thing he’d had Friday do when he’d begun overhauling the Nostromo was to convert the user interfaces to English with a standard keyboard.  “I’m trying to locate any information on the stones I can, but it seems that your galactic data net is somewhat lacking.”</p><p>“Well move over old man,” Quill replied, stepping between Tony and the screen before Stark could possibly have moved out of the way.  “Let me show you how to run a search.”  Um,” he added, noting the strange configuration.</p><p>Tony gave him an annoyed look and reached past him to hit a button that reverted the user interface to standard.</p><p>“So how is Drax?” Gamora asked as she approached Banner.  She took a quick glance into the statis field before turning away.  The tiny scratch the berserker had suffered had expanded to a blackened gash covering nearly half of his right pectoral.</p><p>“He’s stable for the moment,” Banner said, looking up as if he hadn’t noticed her approach.  “Whatever was on that staff began necrotizing the tissue around the wound at an alarming rate but the stasis field seems to have slowed its progress considerably.”</p><p>“You mean it’s still killing his cells off, even while in stasis?”</p><p>“Yeah, and the rate seems to be increasing,” Banner told her.  “If he’d gotten more than scratched, he’d have never made it to the ship.”</p><p>“So, what do we do?” she asked.</p><p>“Well this is a bit out of my field, but whatever this is seems to act much like a cross between cancer and Necrotizing Fasciitis.  It’s commonly called flesh eating disease, although that term is a bit of a misnomer,” he explained to her blank look.</p><p>“So, what’s the treatment?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“I still haven’t isolated the cause,” Banner told her.  “The best I could do would be to treat it the same way we treat flesh eating disease.  That would require me to cut away the healthy tissue around the necrotic area, but there’s no way to do that while he’s in the stasis field.  Even then I don’t know what will happen.  If whatever’s causing this has gotten into his bloodstream there may be nothing we can do.”</p><p>“Let me take a look at it,” Rocket replied as he worked his way over to the table.</p><p>“What are you thinking?” Banner asked, clearly still getting used to the idea of getting help from a dire raccoon.</p><p>“Well, you can’t penetrate a stasis field, but I might be able to adjust the equipment to narrow the field so it only covers the affected area.”</p><p>“Wait, Rocket you know about medical technology?” Gamora asked in surprise.</p><p>“Eh,” Rocket replied with a shrug “my first rule is usually ‘do some harm’ but I’ll give it a go.  Of course, this will create one minor side issue,” he added.</p><p>“Which is?” Banner asked.</p><p>“Well, since Drax won’t be in the stasis field anymore he’ll be awake while you start carving big chunks of his chest off.  And I’m not going to be the one trying to hold him down,” he asserted.</p><p>“Thor could probably hold him,” Banner offered.</p><p>“Or that beasty you turned into,” Rocket added.  Banner glanced away with a look mingling shame and discomfort.  “What?” the talking raccoon asked.</p><p>“Let’s just,” Gamora cut in “focus on adjusting the equipment.  Then we’ll worry about whose holding who.”</p><p>“You mean besides you and Quill later tonight you mean?” Rocket snickered without looking up from his work.</p><p>“Just get it done,” Gamora demanded through clenched teeth.  She would have loved to bounce the rodent off a few walls for that remark, but she needed him serviceable for the near future.  After that . . . well it would depend on how she was feeling.</p><p>“You see, there’s your problem,” Quill announced from where he’d pushed Stark out of the way.  “You’ve found all the information the data-net has on the stones already,” he explained in a more normal tone.</p><p>Tony grabbed the monitor to double check before replying with a scathing look.  “Hey, don’t give me that look pops,” Quill replied.  “I tried.”</p><p>“This can’t be all there is,” Stark added, muscling his way back in front of the monitor.  “How could there not be more data on something as old as the stones?”</p><p>“Well, I didn’t say that was everything,” Quill told him, earning yet another dirty look.  In Tony’s mind’s eye he could see himself pummeling the cocky upstart with an armored gauntlet.  There was a certain amount of catharsis involved in that act, imagined though it was.</p><p>“Pops?” Quill asked snapping him out of it, clearly unfazed by the minor luck that looks didn’t kill.</p><p>“You said this was everything,” Tony ground out.  It was shocking how easily the kid could get under his skin.  Usually he was the one throwing people off balance.</p><p>“Everything on the data-net” Quill corrected.  “There are certain agencies that might have data on the stones that they’ve failed to share with the galaxy,” he said.  “The Collector, for instance, knew more than we have here.”</p><p>“Are you suggesting we go back?” Tony asked, taken aback at the suggestion.</p><p>“Any database Taneleer Tivan may have possessed is no doubt rubble,” Friday pointed out.</p><p>“And we don’t have time to find any backups he may have created,” Quill agreed.  “But he’s not the only one that might have such information.  You see-”</p><p>“You know where another stone is?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Uh, yes,” Peter responded as he attempted to ascertain how Tony had figured that out.</p><p>“And you’ve waited until now to tell us?” Tony snapped.</p><p>“Well, they knew it too,” Quill said with a wave at Gamora and Rocket.  He wasn’t sure why he was bothering to try and redirect the blame on this.  The older man had a way of catching him off balance like no one he’d met; not even Rocket.</p><p>“Where’s the stone?” Tony demanded, ignoring the feeble attempt to pass the buck.</p><p>Quill glanced at the others for guidance.  After all, he’d only met these people an hour ago; for all he knew they were working with Thanos.  But Gamora was no help, unless you counted an ever so slight shrug as help.  Which he didn’t.  And Rocket’s only response was to hold his paw out in an ‘iffy’ gesture. </p><p>Realizing he had little choice, Quill sighed in surrender.  “It’s on Xandar, in the Nova Prime vault,” he told him.</p><p>“Show me where Xandar is,” Stark commanded, indicating the monitor.  Quill stepped back to it, bringing up a map with one blinking star. </p><p>“Friday?” Tony asked.</p><p>“The indicated star system is only slightly off our current course,” the AI responded, anticipating his request.  The ship on the monitor sprouted a red arrow that fell short of the blinking system, and a little to the left.  Distances to the two systems were displayed next to them, as well as the ship’s speed next to its icon.</p><p>“Well then we need to change course,” Quill replied.</p><p>Tony squinted at the screen.  “Based on this data we’d only save a few hours,” he replied.  “We’re better off continuing to Earth.”</p><p>“Then we’ll head straight there on our ship,” Quill said, already headed for the hatch.</p><p>“We’d lose almost as much time unlashing your ship,” Thor replied.  “Tony’s right.  The best course is forward, together,” he added, earning an odd look from the technologist.</p><p>“What is on Earth that is so important?” Quill demanded.</p><p>Before anyone could respond Nebula woke up.  While that in itself might not have been much of an interruption she was also waking up in an unknown room surrounded by strangers, with some sort of body device pinning her to the table.  And she’d been handcuffed to said table.</p><p>It took her only a split second to take these details in and factor them into a rather pessimistic risk analysis.   Then she raised her arms, as if curling a heavy weight, shattering the panel.  She flipped herself off of the table, snapping the handcuff’s chain mid twirl, and landed next to the neighboring wall.  She took one look at those suddenly watching her, reached behind herself, and ripped a stanchion off of the wall.  She then adopted a posture consisting mainly of holding the makeshift club over her head in such a way as to suggest that the first person to come within reach would probably be sporting a slightly used stanchion . . . permanently.</p><p>“Nebula,” Gamora called out, approaching from the other side of the room as if she were a frightened dog “it’s okay.  No one is going to hurt you.”</p><p>“Explain this then,” Nebula growled, holding her right arm up to show the remains of the handcuff.</p><p>“What?” Gamora asked before realizing it wasn’t a bracelet and shifting a glare at the group further down the bay.  “Which one of you ingrates chained her to the table?” she demanded.  There was no response.  Gamora glared more.</p><p>Finally Rocket spoke up.  “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said with a shrug.</p><p>“Rocket!” Gamora yelled, chastising him.</p><p>“What?” he protested.  “It’s not like she was really restrained.  Obviously . . .”</p><p>Gamora sighed, choosing not to respond to that comment.  Sometimes she wondered how she’d ended up being a school teacher for a bunch of ten-year-olds.  “Nebula,” she said instead “would you put that down?  I promise, you’re safe.”</p><p>Nebula glanced uncertainly at Gamora.  It was clear she wanted to be able to trust her nominal sister.  It was also just as clear that she didn’t, at least not fully.  Be that as it may, she did eventually lower the improvised weapon, though she maintained a tight grip on it.</p><p>“And I thought the Asgardian version of sibling rivalry was bad,” Thor commented from where he’d been watching the drama unfold.</p><p>“Yes,” Tony replied as if reminded of something “where is the god of lies anyways?” he asked.  Thor grimaced at the nickname but let it slide.  At some point one must simply recognize a lost cause and move on.</p><p>“Thanos has him,” he said finally.</p><p>“Wait, let me make sure I’ve got this straight,” Quill replied.  “Thanos has the god of trickery?” he asked.  “Well I guess that gives his army a whole new dimension,” he added before anyone could respond.</p><p>“He won’t break,” Thor replied, thinking back to his conversation with his father.</p><p>“He’s got a point,” Banner asked from the back of the room.   “He’s more broken than a china shop in hurricane season already.  I can’t imagine anything Thanos could do would make that worse.”  Thor responded with another of his patented glares, despite the fact that Banner was technically supporting his position.</p><p>“Indicating a lack of imagination Thanos does not possess,” Nebula responded in that gravelly voice.   “Everyone breaks.”</p><p>“I suggest you speak not of what you do not know foul mistress,” Thor replied, advancing on the blue woman.  Nebula glared back, seemingly unfazed.  “You have enough to answer for already.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Quill jumped in “like ruining our chances of getting the Aether.”  Nebula shifted her deathly gaze at the rogue, but said nothing.</p><p>“You never had one,” Nebula replied, shifting her gaze to Quill.</p><p>“Why did you do it?” Gamora asked, sounding more hurt than anything.  “You didn’t even give us a chance.”</p><p>“What happened to you, sister?” Nebula asked suddenly irritated.</p><p>“This has nothing to do with me,” Gamora replied.  Nebula simply stared at her, as if unable to believe what she was hearing.  There had been a time when Gamora would have instantly recognized the foolish futility of attempting to get someone like Taneleer Tivan to release any of his possessions.  But that Gamora was gone, somehow replaced with a far more naïve shadow.</p><p>She scanned the room, but found only detractors.  “You’re all imbeciles,” she declared, disgusted.  “Taneleer Tivan has been searching for the Infinity Stones even longer than Thanos.  He would never have handed it over,” she added, making for the exit.  Thor stepped in front of her.  Thus proceeded the sizing up portion of the fight.</p><p>Fortunately for the ship it never got further than that.  “As much as I hate to side with her,” Rocket replied, in an uncharacteristic attempt at mollification “she does have a point.”</p><p>“You were the one helping her!” Quill shouted in disbelief.</p><p>“No, they’re right,” Tony cut in without looking up from his terminal.  “He’s called ‘The Collector’, not ‘The Distributor’.”</p><p>“Did you figure that out all by yourself?” Nebula sneered making an aside glance at him.</p><p>“Well, we can’t all know everything,” Tony replied coolly, still not taking his attention from the information.</p><p>“We can’t all pull your liver out of your mouth, either,” she snarled.  For some reason his cool sarcasm was more infuriating than Thor’s angry threats.  She wasn’t sure why.</p><p>“Nebula, stop it,” Gamora snapped before she could pursue that thought.  “We have to work together if we’re going to stop Thanos.”</p><p>“You people can’t stop the drool from sliding down your chins,” Nebula growled, causing Quill, Thor, and Rocket to check their chins as surreptitiously as possible.  “I’ll take my ship now,” she added.</p><p>“It’s lashed to the hull,” Thor replied.</p><p>“Unlash it,” she ordered, adding a glare for emphasis.</p><p>“We don’t have the time,” Stark told her.  She turned a threatening glare on him, but otherwise said nothing.  “Starting a fight isn’t going to change that,” he added.  “Once we get to Earth, if you want to go, you can go,” he added.</p><p>Before he could respond Gamora jumped back in.  “Nebula you can’t do this alone,” she pleaded.</p><p>“I don’t need any of you,” he snarled again as she started for the exit again.  Thor thought for half a second, then stepped out of her way.</p><p>“Really?” Stark asked, halting her half way to the door.  “Cause, I would have thought you’d be feeling much better after our intervention,” he added.</p><p>“And you want a ‘thank you’?” she asked, without turning around.</p><p>“That’d be nice,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“The only reason I was in pain was because I saved your idiotic lives,” she added.  “Did you thank me?”</p><p>Stark stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment.  “You know, I think my time would be better spent elsewhere,” he said, heading to the door.  </p><p>“Where are you going?” Thor asked.</p><p>“Figure out what Taneleer was talking about.  And make a phone call,” Tony replied.  “You coming?” he asked with a glance at Quill.</p><p>“Yeah,” Quill replied, following him.  Gamora couldn’t help but note it being the first time he’d ever followed anyone.</p><p>“That is of some interest to me as well,” Thor said, following the other two.  That left the two sisters glaring at each other at one end of the room, with Vision observing, almost like a referee.  Rocket and Banner did their best to focus on helping Drax.</p><p>“What is wrong with you Nebula?” Gamora hissed.  Nebula simply stared at her with that blank deathly gaze, which did not improve Gamora’s mood.</p><p>“You know,” Vision said into the silence “this is starting to seem more a family matter.  I think I’ll take my leave.”  And with that he passed through the nearest bulkhead.  Nebula stared at the wall he’d left by in surprise until Gamora brought her back to the argument she seemed determined to have.</p><p>“Do you know that they were trying to help you?” Gamora insisted.  “They lowered the pain setting on your implant.  They even thought they might be able to remove it completely; not that they’d probably try now,” she added bitterly.</p><p>“Good,” Nebula replied, gaining a shocked look from Gamora.</p><p>“You’d rather go on like this?” she asked disbelievingly.  Again, Nebula simply stared at her.</p><p>“You don’t have to be in pain,” Gamora insisted. “You can live a normal life.”</p><p>“So I can be like you?  So I can forget what was done to me; what’s still being done to so many others?” she replied acidly.  This time it was Gamora’s turn to simply stare.  “Perhaps,” Nebula continued just as caustically “I can find some boyfriend somewhere.  We can even run away together and pretend to be intergalactic cops.”</p><p>Gamora opened her mouth to respond, but whatever she had to say died in her throat as those words registered.  Try as she might she could not discount them.  She tried telling herself that Nebula was just playing on her guilt for being unable to save those other girls.  There was no certainty that Thanos could be defeated, no matter what she thought.  Nebula’s plan had backfired incredibly quickly after all. </p><p>But the nagging thought that Nebula might have been right scared her.  Here Nebula had been pushing on to eliminate Thanos on her own.  And it sounded as if she was on the right track before they’d stumbled onto her plan.  Had Gamora simply used Thanos’s perceived invulnerability as an excuse to avoid trying?</p><p>She couldn’t tell anymore, and that irked her.  Moreover, she just couldn’t deal with Nebula staring at her in that cold way of hers.  There was no point in continuing this conversation right now.  All that would come of it would be a shouting match.  So, instead of speaking, she closed her mouth and stormed passed Nebula, out of the room.</p><p>“Wow, and I thought Loki was a few screws shy of a coat rack,” Banner commented from the other end of the room.</p><p>“Oh, like you know crazy humie,” Rocket muttered.</p><p>“I think I have a good grasp on the subject matter,” Banner replied.</p><p>“Oh really?” Rocket asked.  “You know what it’s like to be torn apart into pieces, to be reassembled to someone else’s designs?”</p><p>“You saw what I turned into,” Banner replied.  “You have no idea how painful that is.”</p><p>“Who did that to you?” Rocket demanded.</p><p>“Well . . . I did it to myself,” Banner admitted.  “It was an accident.”</p><p>“That’s not the same thing at all!” Rocket yelled.  “You don’t know what it’s like to be conscious and powerless to stop someone from doing it to you.  You don’t know what it’s like to dream of revenge when you sleep, to fantasize about it while you’re awake, and to plan it in between.  You don’t know what it’s like at all.”</p><p>“I guess you do?” Banner asked.</p><p>“Damned straight I do,” Rocket replied.  “But I got my revenge,” he said proudly.</p><p>“And did that help?” Banner asked, bringing the rodent up short.</p><p>“I guess . . . not really?” Rocket hedged.  “I thought I felt better.  But it wasn’t until I met Groot, and then Quill and the rest of this floating circus that anything changed.”</p><p>“How do you know what happened to me?” Nebula demanded.</p><p>“Gamora,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“Do not compare your sorry excuses for torment to me,” she sneered.  “You know nothing about me.”  Then she turned and stalked out of the room.</p><p>Rocket turned to Banner.  “No, you’re right,” he told the biochemist “she’s crazy.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Messages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Earth, New York</p><p>An Abandoned Warehouse in Queens</p><p> </p><p>Peter landed on the ground about ten feet from the old warehouse and strode boldly to the door.  That in itself was unusual; he’d normally dawdle about in front for a bit while he worked up the courage to go in.  But this time he had something more important to handle.</p><p>Even so, as he pushed the massive doors aside, he couldn’t help but stop to make sure the coast was clear.  Nothing jumped out at him, but that was of limited reassurance.  No matter how hard he tried he could not anticipate what she’d have set up.  Sighing in resignation he turned and closed the door.</p><p>“Rome?” he called out, using the handle he’d been given.  Of course, there was no answer.  She loved to set the scene.  Not that it was necessary; she scared him despite his abilities.  Not quaking in his boots fear, either; it was more like living with the knowledge that she could probably kill him if she wanted to.</p><p>“Rome, we don’t have time for this today,” he called out as he strode down a randomly picked side of the building.</p><p>“There’s never enough time,” her voice replied, echoing off of the girders.  He stopped to listen.  The echoes made it extremely hard to pin down her location, but not impossible.  This time he was fairly certain that she was up on the catwalk at the other end of the building.</p><p>He kept moving in the direction he’d been headed, away from the source.  Every time he’d managed to pin down her location it had been a trap.  She wanted him up on the catwalk, which meant it was the last place he wanted to go.</p><p>He was just starting to feel good about his decision to not be baited when his danger sense kicked in.  Even with his enhanced reflexes he was barely able to leap out of the way as a two-hundred-pound punching bag crashed to the ground.</p><p>He was still in the air when Black Widow seemed to materialize out of the darkness.  She rammed her right elbow across Peter’s jaw, causing him to flip midair, and crash to the ground.  He flipped back to his feet, webbing the area she’d been in; she was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>“You cannot rely solely on your abilities,” the voice proclaimed from the shadows.  She was above him, but he wasn’t sure where.</p><p>“Rome, I have a message from Olympus,” he called out futilely.  She’d drilled it into him that once a session had begun there was no stopping it.  ‘You can’t just call time out when someone’s trying to kill you’ she’d said on more than one occasion. </p><p>In other words, he’d have to complete the trial first.  He glanced around the cluttered warehouse.  It was never the same twice.  He figured Mr. Stark was helping her configure each new challenge.  He was scanning mainly for his target.  That, and traps.  It was always a good idea to scan for those.  Some of them hurt.</p><p>All he had to do was get to the ‘victim’ (usually an old mannequin of some sort) somewhere in the building and get it outside.  He’d actually managed to rescue the ‘damsel in distress’ a couple of times; four if you weren’t picky about how many body parts the mannequin ended with.  Barring that outcome, the scenario only concluded when the victim was dead.  Tony swore he’d buy Peter a new car if he could actually capture Widow while saving the plastic hostage.  He had the car picked out but-</p><p>-he flipped around at the snapping sound near him, webbing it instinctively.  He reeled in a rat trap complete with freshly killed rat.  Another rat was greedily eating the cheese that had been the former trap’s bait.  Being New York rats, he figured the live one had pushed the now dead rat onto the trap to get the cheese. </p><p>He was fairly certain that Widow was feeding the rats to keep the population up in the warehouse.  The rat trap was a new touch though.  Remembering where he was, he flipped around, expecting an attack.  None solidified this time.  He supposed even Widow couldn’t time rats offing each other.  He shook his head at his jumpiness and turned around just in time to see a stunner blast aimed for his head.  He dove out of the way, only to be hit by a second bolt.  For a brief instant he saw flashes of color and then he was out.</p><p>He started back awake reflecting that, if he got nothing else from this training, he’d still gain an immunity to stunner blasts.  Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking, he thought as he rubbed his temple.  She knew he hated stunners.  And she’d gone for his head <em>again</em>.  Not that he was about to complain about it; she’d only ask if he planned on asking his opponents not to shoot him in the head.</p><p>He started to rise, but halted mid-way as he realized he wasn’t in the same part of the warehouse he’d been stunned in.  Apparently, Widow was playing with the power setting on her stunners, again.  He’d thought she’d had them on max gain.</p><p>“You must be aware of your surroundings at all times,” the voice said again.  He did his best to scan his surroundings for her without actually moving.  It would not have been the first time she’d rendered him unconscious in order to move him into a trap.  Despite his heightened senses he couldn’t locate her, which wasn’t surprising.  He still wasn’t sure how she made it to New York without being caught on a regular basis.  He knew she wasn’t staying here.</p><p>Well, at least she wasn’t moving, or shooting him in the face with a high tech taser.  He turned his attention to the rest of his environs.  Directly in front of him was that accursed dummy, hanging over a bubbling cauldron, of all things, like cheese in a trap.  This time the dummy had a couple of hundred-dollar bills pinned to its blouse.</p><p>The obvious thing for him to do would be to web the top of the cauldron and pull it over, spilling its contents where it couldn’t hurt the rich damsel in distress.  He could then swing over to rescue her.  Very heroic.</p><p>Which meant it was what Widow was trying to get him to do.  Nor could he simply web the dummy itself.  The only places not covered in cloth were her arms and head.  He’d tried attaching his webs to her clothing once, but that had left him with a nude mannequin that was just anatomically correct enough to be embarrassing.  Not that Widow’s comments about male teenagers hadn’t made the situation any better.</p><p>He could web the rope itself to pull her to safety, but he couldn’t take the chance that it was attached to a tension-based release.  If so, as soon as he began pulling the tensioner would open and the victim would live up to its name.  At least the dummy was secured with rope instead of a harness, meaning it wouldn’t have a quick disconnect.  Then again, he could possibly have webbed a harness.</p><p>He took half a step forward, halting when he noticed a shift in the boards he was standing on.  On closer inspection, it appeared that he was on a three-foot square pressure trap.  He had no way of knowing what it would do, but based on previous sessions he guessed it would force him to act quickly once he moved.  Probably it would drop the victim, but it could be anything.  He rocked up and down slightly, testing the give of the device.  From what he could tell it was as compacted as it would go.</p><p>He focused on the mannequin, following the rope up until he caught the slight gleam of a line coming off of it.  Fishing line.  He couldn’t see what it was connected to, but it was sure to be nasty.</p><p> For a moment he was tempted to simply web the hundred dollars off the blouse and let the dummy fall, or get shot, or crushed, or whatever deviousness Widow had in mind.  Mr. Stark had impressed upon him the importance of timely delivery of this message at least three times in his brief trans-galactic call.</p><p>But he couldn’t do that.  It would be admitting defeat.  And besides, she’d only make him pay for it next time, no matter his excuse.  It was a little scary how well she played the evil villain, really.</p><p>He started to get that itch that suggested he’d better act soon.  He tried to tell himself he’d only spent a few moments pondering the situation despite how long it felt but it was of little consolation.  If Widow got bored it would not go well for him.</p><p>That fishing line suggested that he had a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree arc to the right of the rope he could pull the mannequin without activating whatever it was attached to.  But that left a very predictable path of movement.  Considering that Widow had placed him here he figured following that path was probably suicide.  Or maybe that was what she wanted him to think.  Maybe she’d given him an obvious path, knowing that he’d take the alternate route.  Or maybe she’d expected him to expect . . .  ahg!  A person could go crazy thinking this way.</p><p>“Screw it,” he muttered extending his right arm to point at a beam straight overhead and his left to another on that side.  He webbed them both and pulled the strands together, causing the beam above to collapse.  Then he took a precious moment to web the cracks of the small platform he’d been standing on and dove out of the way of the falling structural member. </p><p>The webbing in the cracks slowed the plate’s decompression just long enough for the beam to take his place.  He snapped a couple of strands out to hold it and webbed another member, pulling himself up into a swing.</p><p>He was barely a quarter of the way through his arc when a bullet severed the strand.  But that shot had required Widow to give herself away.  Honing in on the sound he was able to pin her location to some shadows under a staircase on the second level of the complex warehouse.  He quickly webbed the second-floor section and yanked himself towards it.  While in the air he sent a web bolt at her right side and another to the staircase itself.   As she dodged to her right he pulled on the staircase.  This had the dual effect of sending him flying towards her and pulling the staircase down.</p><p>She immediately dove forward, bringing her stunners up at the end of the roll.  He webbed a likely enough looking stanchion and gave it a quick tug, altering his course as he fired another bolt.  The glob of goo hit her right stunner as she brought it in line with his new vector.  The momentum of the hit carried her hand up to her face.  The webbing kept it there.  The impact, coupled with the lack of mobility sent her legs out from under her.</p><p>“Stop hitting yourself,” Peter muttered.  “Whoa!” he added immediately after, as he dodged out of the way of a blindly aimed shot from her other wrist.  After that one shot, she retrieved a knife from her boot to cut the webbing away.  His time grew short.</p><p>He sprinted to the edge of that walkway before webbing into the air on an arc that led to the right of the victim.  He almost immediately loosed a web to the left, changing his arc just as a disruptor bolt crackled over his shoulder.  A light tug on the strand adjusted his trajectory to a vertical beam just to the left of the intended victim.  He landed on both feet before pushing off to intersect the rope at the trip line’s attach point.</p><p>He also gave himself enough rotation to put him into a spin along the vertical axis.  As widow came into view, he fired off two web bolts in her general direction, without bothering to see if they hit.  Instead he followed his rotation around to the rope.  He webbed beams on either side of himself to stabilize his flight and yanked himself towards his goal.  Another bolt passed just behind him.</p><p>While in the air, he fired a no look shot at where he perceived the disruptor blasts to have originated from before catching the rope.  It began to swing, creating slack in the trip wire.  He reached up and ripped the line out of the rope before sliding down to where the hostage was.</p><p>“Don’t worry ma’am,” he intoned as he worked at the knot “I’ll save you.”  He managed to unknot the rope and tucked her/it under one arm before swinging them towards a nearby set of windows.  Once through he used the strand to slow their drop down, landing quite softly on the dock opposite his entrance.</p><p>“There you are, all safe and sound, ma’am,” he said in as deep a voice as he could muster.</p><p>“Safe and sound?” he responded in the shrill voice of an older woman.  He took the dummy’s hand and began hitting himself over the head with it.  “We could have been killed.  I think I have whiplash.  My lawyers will hear about this!”</p><p>“Are you about done?” Widow asked from the open doorway. </p><p>“Almost,” Peter replied, plucking the two hundred dollars off of the mannequin’s blouse.  He then nudged it into the river.</p><p>Natasha raised an eyebrow.  “What was that about?” she asked.</p><p>Peter shrugged.  “She was going to sue,” he explained casually.  “By the way, that’s a nice look,” he added.  She’d managed to cut most of the strand that had hit her away but there was still a little on her arm and in her hair.  “Now you’re a real black widow,” he stated.</p><p>She shook her head slightly, trying not to grin.  That would only encourage the brat.  “Do you know how much a mannequin costs?” she asked instead.</p><p>“Now that’s awfully racist of you,” he replied.  “Members of my generation consider all life priceless, not just that of Homo-Sapiens.  And we certainly don’t put a dollar value on those of the species Mannequin Sapiens.”</p><p>“Pick it up,” she ordered with a sigh.</p><p>“Rodger,” Peter said, snapping a jaunty salute before turning around.  His voice switched to a southern drawl as he said “Today on Deadliest Catch, we’re attempting to snag us the elusive Caucasian Mannequin.  Well I’ll be, there’s one right there,” he added as he webbed its head.  “Let’s see if we can’t reel this one in.  But ya gotta be careful.  These are fighters,” he announced before making a reeling noise and tugging on the strand. </p><p>The head of the mannequin popped out of the water and into his hand.  “Oh, oops,” he said, dropping the accent and frantically webbing the mannequin.  This time he came up with a blouse.  “That’s not right,” he declared, trying to web the mannequin again.  But by this time the current had taken it far enough away that the distance plus the bobbing motion was making it difficult to line up a shot.</p><p>“Peter,” Widow said from behind him.</p><p>“Well, it’s not like you’ve never destroyed any of them,” he replied, sounding just a touch defensive.</p><p>“Sit down,” she said, indicating the edge of the pier.  She then strode past him and took her own advice.  He sat hesitantly next to her, giving her a nervous glance.  That glance had nothing to do with the normal reason a teenage male might be nervous about sitting next to a beautiful woman.  Not that he hadn’t started these sessions out with those fantasies, of course.  But it’s hard to be attracted to someone who specializes in sneak attacks and traps.  At least when they’re all aimed at you.  It was enough to give him a persecution complex.</p><p>She stared across the water to the waning sun.  “People like us rarely get the chance to just see simple things like a sun setting,” she said eventually before falling silent again.  He wasn’t sure what she saw in that view, but he was certain it wasn’t the view itself.  He was smart enough to keep the silence, so they watched it together.</p><p>“You are improving,” she told him eventually.</p><p>He didn’t know what to say.  He’d never actually gotten a compliment from her before.  “Thanks,” he said eventually, sounding somewhat embarrassed.</p><p>“You are improving,” she repeated “but I have concerns.”</p><p>“Why?” he asked.</p><p>“I’m concerned because every encounter with an enemy leaves you that much more vulnerable.  The more you fight, the quicker they will figure out your patterns: how you fight, how you think, how you’re vulnerable.  They will eventually know you better than I do, better than even you do.”</p><p>“So, what?” he asked.  “Is this your way of telling me I should start killing them?”  It was clear from his tone what he thought of that idea.</p><p>“No,” she said quietly.  “I’d prefer you to not make the mistakes I’ve made,” she explained.  “Killing is . . . the ultimate power over another,” she said slowly.  “It’s intoxicating, and addictive.  And the worst part is that sometimes it’s necessary.”  She fell silent again.</p><p>“You’re the same age I was the first time I killed,” she continued.  “I don’t want you to have to deal with that yet.  I don’t think you’re ready for it; I certainly wasn’t.  But you need to be aware of that danger.  Patterns of behavior are a luxury you can’t afford.  That’s the point of all this,” she finished up with a wave at the warehouse.   After that she fell silent again, watching the sun set.</p><p>Peter followed suite but he wasn’t really seeing that view at all.  He couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said.  He tried to picture killing someone, as she had.  He just couldn’t do it.  Perhaps that was for the best.</p><p>“What was the message?” she asked suddenly, breaking into his thoughts.</p><p>“Message?” he replied, squinting in confusion.</p><p>“When you entered the warehouse, you said you had a message,” she reminded him patiently.</p><p>“Oh that,” he replied.  “It’s really silly,” he added.  “It was probably just some sort of test.”</p><p>“You didn’t seem to think so when you thought it would get you out of training,” she said pointedly.</p><p>“Yeah, because I thought it would keep me from getting my ass kicked” he replied.  “Besides, it’s embarrassing,” he added.  He’d felt ridiculous enough when Mr. Stark had insisted he repeat the message back over the phone.  He was sure telling someone else would not improve the feeling.</p><p>“Peter,” Widow replied, fixing him with a glare.  “What was the message?” she asked again, sternly.</p><p>Parker sighed.  “Dogs barking, can’t fly without umbrella,” he parroted, feeling just as silly as he’d expected.</p><p>“Say that again,” she said, suddenly intent.</p><p>“Dogs barking, can’t fly without umbrella,” he repeated, slightly louder.</p><p>Concern colored her face almost instantly.  She stood up, with him following quickly.  “And you’re just telling me this now?” she snapped.</p><p>“Well I was busy getting my ass kicked,” he said defensively.  “And then you shot me in the face . . . again.  You know what that does to my memory.”</p><p>“What else did he say?” she asked.</p><p>“Just a list of numbers,” he said as he reeled them off.</p><p>“That’s in Wakanda,” Widow said, more to herself than to anyone else.  “In thirty hours,” she added as she turned and began walking briskly away.</p><p>“Wait,” Peter called from behind her “what’s in thirty hours?”</p><p>“The rest of your training is on hold,” she called over her shoulder.</p><p>“Wait that’s it?  What’s in Wakanda?” he asked incredulously.</p><p>“Go home, Peter,” she said as she rounded the corner.  He rushed after her, but when he came around the corner she was gone.</p><p>“You know you’re supposed to tip when you get a telegram right?” he called out in frustration.  When were they going to stop treating him like a kid?  Wasn’t the whole point of these little rendezvous supposed to be to prepare him for just this occasion?  And she’d said he was improving.  And, most importantly, how did she keep disappearing on someone with heightened senses? </p><p>He didn’t know, but he was going to find out.  If Mr. Stark was involving Captain Rogers in this then it had to be big.  His voice took on a game show host quality as he said “These answers and more can be yours with the right computer intrusion skills.”  Then he launched himself into the air.  It would take at least thirty minutes to get home.  That gave Widow a thirty-minute head start.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Earth</p><p>Kingdom of Wakanda</p><p>Bulhe Mental Health Facility</p><p>“I must object, my king,” Okoye stated quietly as she and T’Challa watched the man they’d come to see through a one-way mirror.  On the other side Sergeant Barnes sat patiently, waiting for his next counseling session.  “There are too many uncertainties on the table already,” she concluded in a voice just above a whisper</p><p>“I am aware of your concerns Okoye,” T’Challa replied calmly. </p><p> “This is not the time for you to be taking unnecessary risks,” she persisted.  “Never have the eyes of the other nations of this world been so focused on us. Never have our people been so unsure of what tomorrow might bring.  The number of people attempting to cross our borders alone increases with the day.  And with the Border Tribe in prison we are more vulnerable than ever.  We need you here.”  The days since the unveiling of Wakanda had been hard on her.  Her husband had been jailed.  Her people were fearful.  And she was having to spend much more time analyzing the threat of other nations.  W’Kabi might have been a traitor, but he was right in one respect.  The nations of the planet were catching up technologically.  Wakanda was a small country.  If the countries of the world banded against them it would not survive.</p><p>“What?  You don’t like how M’Baku’s people have handled it?” T’Challa asked, baiting her. </p><p>“It is not about what I like or don’t like, T’Challa,” she replied.  “They are neither trained nor prepared to defend our borders.  And I don’t trust M’Baku,” she added.  “He respects you.  He’ll follow you.  But if you are not here, I don’t know what he’ll do.”</p><p>“You worry too much Okoye,” T’Challa chided her.  He tried for a light tone but it came out brooding.  Not for her fears, for he did not share them.  It’s hard to keep the mood light when you’re about to do something awful.  He could tell himself all he wanted that it was the right thing to do, but that knowledge was of no comfort.  Nothing could change the fact that, if he succeeded, he would rob this man of something.  And he’d already had so much taken from him.  The thought was enough to sicken T’Challa.</p><p>“Is it not enough that we harbor and aid these people?” Okoye asked, breaking into his thoughts.  “You have been more than generous with them.  But you do not owe them anything.”  She knew she was overstepping her bounds.  He was her king.  She was his general.  It was her job to carry out his commands.  But the thought of what might happen scared her.</p><p>“We all owe them,” he replied quietly.  “Wakanda is why they must hide, and so I will hide them.”</p><p>“Let us consider what happens when the United Nations discovers this,” she stated.  “You will lose everything you have been working for.”</p><p>“Or we will gain everything,” T’Challa replied, giving her a meaningful look.  He really should have ended this conversation by now.  It was far from new, and yet nothing new had been said.  He understood her fear for his people.  In truth he shared it.  But he also understood that they could not let fear make their decisions any longer.</p><p>“I implore you one last time,” she said “let me do this.”</p><p>“You are our greatest warrior, general,” T’Challa replied “but I have fought him.  Should this work I am the only one with a chance of surviving.”  She didn’t respond, instead going back to examining the American sitting in the overly large room.  It was a complete circle three stories tall and twenty meters wide.  It had a little creek running through its flowered floor.  It had a very Japanese feel to it.  The subject of his observation was sitting on a bench carved from the root of the massive tree spiraling up through the center, perfectly still.  He seemed almost serene.</p><p>T’Challa gave a signal to the surveillance dot in the room.  A moment later a door on the opposing wall of the room opened up, admitting his sister Shuri.  She strode with her usual energetic gate to the center of the room.</p><p>“Hello Bucky,” Shuri greeted him warmly. </p><p>“Hello Shuri,” Bucky replied, holding out his new metal arm.  “Do I have you to thank for this?” he asked.</p><p>“You could have at least waited to replace his arm until after,” Okoye complained back in the observation room. </p><p>“It must seem real,” T’Challa said pointedly, as he watched the interplay.  Of all the people involved in this she was the only one who seemed completely composed about it.  Actually, she’d said they were crazy to worry.</p><p>“Mostly,” Shuri replied.  “I did get some ideas from Tony, though.”</p><p>“Tony Stark?” Sergeant Barnes clarified, sounding concerned.</p><p>“I am not sure how I feel about that man either,” Okoye said at the mention of Stark.  She would follow her king anywhere, but she was having a harder time adjusting to his new approach to the world than she would have believed possible.  It came out as nitpicking.</p><p>“It made sense to collaborate with him,” T’Challa replied slightly defensively.  “He was already working on similar projects.  And it’s good for Shuri to have a friend that can keep up with her.”</p><p>“He is playing a dangerous game with his leaders that could expose us all,” Okoye objected.  “Besides,” she added “he is a foreign arms developer.  Giving him access to our knowledge was a mistake.”</p><p>“According to Shuri he was pretty close to our level technologically already,” T’Challa pointed out.  “And the exchange was far from one way.  Shuri came back with a dozen new ideas.”  Okoye didn’t respond.  Inside the room Shuri was winding down on her excited detailing of the advancements Stark had recommended.</p><p>“I hope you removed the detonator,” Barnes replied dryly as she finished, examining the arm as though it had become a snake.  “For the explosives,” he explained as he noticed her confused look.</p><p>“There are no explosives in your arm,” she assured him.  “Why would anyone design a prosthetic limb with explosives?” she asked.  Bucky opened his mouth to respond, then changed his mind and closed it.  For some reason he was hesitant to destroy the image of someone she respected.</p><p>“It’s just a joke,” he said, looking away to try and hide the lie.  He was a terrible liar.</p><p>“Anyway, I don’t know where Doctor Bahyi is,” she said as she finally worked her way around to the point of this exercise “but my brother would like a word with you if that’s all right.”</p><p>“That is my cue,” T’Challa said, stepping back from the window and heading for the door.  “Remember,” he added, pausing as his hand encompassed the door knob “no matter what happens, do nothing.  This must play out.”</p><p>“My king . . .” Okoye said suddenly, concern filling her voice.</p><p>“I will be fine,” T’Challa replied with as close to a carefree grin as he could manage.  It lasted only a moment before his face smoothed back to impassivity and he opened the door.</p><p>“Well,” Bucky was saying as the door opened “I could hardly refuse my host, now could I?”</p><p>“Hello Sergeant Barns,” T’Challa greeted warmly as he walked to where the man was seated with his hand out.  Except he wasn’t seated anymore.  T’Challa had barely started moving when the American stood at what they called ‘attention’.  It seemed natural to him.</p><p>“King T’Challa,” Barnes responded, accepting the king’s offer to shake.  He’d been there long enough to know it was not a greeting native to Wakanda, which meant the king had chosen to honor his customs.</p><p>“How are you, Sergeant?” T’Challa inquired, holding the shake for a moment before releasing the other man’s hand.</p><p>“They say I’m doing better,” Bucky replied with a little shrug.</p><p>“Please,” T’Challa said, indicating the sergeant’s recently vacated chair with his hand as he sat in the chair opposite.  “So, they say you are doing better?” he prompted, sounding unconvinced.  “I believe the words given to me were ‘remarkable recovery’, and ‘ready to be reintegrated into society’,” T’Challa added. </p><p>“They tell me that too,” Bucky replied uncomfortably.</p><p>“But you are not so sure?” T’Challa asked him.</p><p>“I . . . it’s complicated,” Bucky tried to explain.  But how does one explain their fear of having their mind hijacked at any moment?</p><p>T’Challa sympathized.  He couldn’t guess at the horrors the man across from him had endured, and he wasn’t sure he’d wanted to if he could.  What had happened to him was probably the most invasive, pernicious violation of a person he’d ever heard of.  It made rape seem almost affectionate; a rape of the mind.</p><p>“The male African elephant is forced out of its herd upon reaching adulthood.  One can guess that it does not wish to go, but it is given no choice.  It is comfortable, and so must be forced out,” T’Challa explained at what seemed to be random.  In truth he was stalling.  He knew he was stalling.  He knew the best thing to do would be to just get this over with, that the longer he delayed the more he’d hate it.</p><p>“So, what; I’m a juvenile elephant?” Bucky replied, sounding slightly amused.</p><p>“You are comfortable,” T’Challa corrected him.  “Unfortunately, men such as us are not destined for comfort,” he added sadly.</p><p>“So, it’s time for me to go?” Bucky asked.</p><p>“I am sorry Sergeant Barnes,” T’Challa apologized.</p><p>“Sorry?” Bucky replied.  “You’ve been more than generous with your help, with everything.  There’s nothing to be sorry for.”</p><p>“That is not what I meant,” T’Challa said, still stalling.  What was wrong with him?  He knew the value of this.  He knew its importance to everyone.</p><p>“Then what?” Bucky asked, confused.  Up till now the conversation had followed a simple track.  He’d been able to tell immediately that the king was bothered by something.  But it wasn’t exactly like he was one of his confidants.  He was just a reclamation project the king had worked on, like taking in a malnourished dog.</p><p>“Longing,” T’Challa intoned in Russian, finally getting to it.</p><p>“What?” Bucky asked again, certain he’d misheard the patriarch.</p><p>“Rusted,” the king continued.</p><p>“No,” Bucky gasped, unable to believe what was happening.  Already he could feel those words tugging at him.  Testing the bars holding the monster Hydra had hidden within him.</p><p>“Furnace,” T’Challa continued, as Bucky lurched to the ground in front of his bench.</p><p>“Stop it,” Bucky pleaded, unable to believe they’d betray him like this.  These people had been so good to him.  They’d taken him in, helped him.  And now he was realizing that all they’d ever wanted was the monster.</p><p>“Daybreak,” T’Challa intoned.  Realizing that this was truly happening Bucky yelled a banshee howl of anger and charged the king.  T’Challa quickly stood, hooked his left leg behind the leg of his chair and whipped the sitting device at the sergeant’s legs.  Bucky tripped, crashing through the chair.</p><p>“Seventeen,” T’Challa said just as the sergeant ripped two legs off of the splintered chair and resumed his interrupted charge.  T’Challa backpedaled, avoiding the improvised kali sticks.</p><p>“Benign,” T’Challa said, thinking that at the moment Bucky was anything but.  He narrowly dodged a viscous swipe from one of the sticks and began working his way back to the center of the tree.</p><p>“Nine,” he continued, managing to disarm Bucky of one of his clubs before the enraged sergeant could brain him with it.  He held it in a guard position and began blocking Bucky’s attacks.  He didn’t strike back, or even attempt to disarm the other stick.  As long as Bucky was focused on their improvised sword fighting, he could control the engagement.</p><p>“Homecoming,” T’Challa continued, just as Bucky switched his remaining club to his organic hand and drew T’Challa’s block with an overhead strike.  He followed that up with a metal fist to the chest that sent the king flying into the tree.</p><p>“One,” T’Challa intoned forcibly as he righted himself.  He was beginning to regret not letting Shuri install a kill switch in the sergeant’s shiny new limb for this.  His arguments against had seemed very convincing at the time.  They were decidedly less so now.</p><p>Bucky screamed in response to that last statement and threw his weapon at T’Challa in a fit of rage.  He knew what was coming, how close he was to losing himself.  He could feel the monster’s eagerness.  The key was in the lock.  It had but to be turned.  He had to end this now.</p><p>Bucky charged T’Challa, but as he reached his target the African king leapt twenty feet into the air, out of immediate reach.  “Freight Car,” he intoned from his position in the branches.</p><p>It took a moment, but the sergeant’s demeanor shifted.  The rage seemed to evaporate like pipe smoke in the wind.  It was replaced with a calm lethality.  He stood up, back straight, arms calmly at his sides, and waited.  The Winter Soldier had returned.</p><p>T’Challa jumped down from the tree to stand warily in front of the man.  When his presence provoked no response, he said “Good morning soldier” continuing in flawless Russian.</p><p>There was a slight pause.  “Ready to comply,” the Winter Soldier replied, also in Russian, with that measured voice that maintained itself just above a whisper and just below the freezing point of water.</p><p>“I have a mission for you,” T’Challa said.  “Assassination,” he added, pulling a picture out of his pants pocket and showing it to him.   A picture of Steve Rogers.</p><p>The Winter Soldier looked at the picture, then directly at T’Challa.  But his eyes weren’t the dull eyes of a slave.  There was a spark there.  A spark their owner was clearly trying to hide.  And it was a spark of rage.  The king had just enough time to realize the activation sequence had failed before Bucky punched him into the nearest wall.</p><p>T’Challa wasn’t quite sure how he’d been taken so much by surprise.  He’d known this was a possibility.  He thought he’d prepared for it.  But somehow the sergeant had gotten through his guard anyway.  Perhaps he’d been too busy condemning himself to see it.</p><p>He’d have liked to say he was pleased it hadn’t worked, but at the moment all he could think of was how much that had hurt.  His chest felt as if it had been hit with an anvil.  His back didn’t feel much better.  And his eyes were having trouble focusing.</p><p>He blinked to clear them just in time to see Bucky standing in front of him.  He tried to activate his suit, suddenly very grateful that Okoye had insisted he bring it.  But Barnes’s hands closed around his throat like an electric press before it could enclose him.</p><p>The suit kept trying to wedge its way under the fingers, but there simply wasn’t room.  The king tried to pry his hands away but they would not budge.</p><p>“Sergeant,” T’Challa called out hoarsely to no avail.  T’Challa kicked Barnes in the shin bone.   When Barnes didn’t react, he kicked him again, harder.  That got a response, but probably not the one the king had hoped for.  Instead of releasing him, or backing away, Bucky jerked T’Challa’s body in an arc that ended abruptly where it met the ground.</p><p>T’Challa struck out in response, jabbing Barnes in the ribs, first once, then over and over with increasing desperation.  But the maddened sergeant would not budge.  It suddenly occurred to T’Challa that he might actually die here, in the grips of a beneficiary.  A beneficiary that had every right to kill him.  Was that why his defenses had been so ineffective?</p><p>Despite the horrible lethality of the situation he couldn’t help but chuckle at the many ironies involved in the situation.  It came out as a rasping gasp but it didn’t matter.  His words to Okoye came floating back to him. </p><p>He’d known how protective of him she was.  He’d been worried that she would jump to intercede too early.  So, he’d ordered her not to under any circumstances.  More than that though, he’d made her swear on her oath of allegiance that she would not interfere.  He’d been so certain he could fend the sergeant off long enough to talk him down.  He’d never even considered that one quick shot could be enough to end the fight before he could craft it to his not death.</p><p>“Bucky, stop!” Steve Rogers yelled from the open door T’Challa had passed through to begin this debacle.  T’Challa’s eyes flew open as the new voice entered the fray.  He was suddenly very grateful that he hadn’t made Steve swear on a Bible that he wouldn’t interfere.  But it turned out that even that act of defiance was inadequate reason to get the angered sergeant to let up.</p><p>“Bucky!” Rogers repeated before taking three leaping strides to where the sergeant was busily committing regicide.  He placed an arm on Barnes’s organic forearm, finally getting a reaction from his friend.  Unfortunately, that reaction did not include loosening the rather antagonized sergeant’s grip.</p><p>“He wanted me to kill you,” Bucky ground out without taking his eyes off of T’Challa.</p><p>“No, he didn’t,” Steve replied.  “We just needed to know if you were good to go,” he added, finally getting the sergeant to break his gaze.</p><p>“What?” Bucky asked, confused.</p><p>“Bucky, let him go,” Steve said in a deeper voice, a command voice.  “That’s an order sergeant!” he snapped when Bucky hesitated.  Finally, almost against his will, he released the prone monarch.  T’Challa gasped a deep breath, before erupting in a fit of coughing.  Steve helped the king into a sitting position against the nearby wall while Bucky processed the sudden shift of events.  The door opened again admitting Okoye and Shuri into the room.  They rushed to check on their somewhat deflated monarch.</p><p>“Yes, I can see there was nothing to worry about,” Okoye said stonily standing over him.  Despite his throat T’Challa grinned as his own words of comfort came back to haunt him.</p><p>“Don’t ever do that again,” Barnes said finally.</p><p>“I assure you . . . this will be the only time,” T’Challa got out between ever decreasing breaths.  After a few more he was actually breathing normally again.  “For what it’s worth, Sergeant Barnes,” he added, in a more normal tone “I am very grateful that you passed this test.  Of course, I will be even more grateful when my throat does not feel as if it was recently sporting a rock python choker, I assure you,” he added self-deprecatingly.</p><p>“I . . .” Bucky started before pausing.  He’d almost said he was sorry for the injury he’d caused; it was pure reflex.  But he wasn’t sorry.  He was still angry.  “I’m glad it didn’t work too,” he said instead.  T’Challa nodded his understanding of both messages but otherwise said nothing.</p><p>“What the hell was this about?” Bucky asked a moment later, still mad.</p><p>“It was a test,” Rogers restated, confused by Bucky’s lack of comprehension. </p><p>“And I am curious as to which idiot thought it up,” Barnes replied shortly, adding a slight grin to soften the statement.  “But you said you needed to see if I was ‘good to go’.  What was so important that you’d risk releasing the winter soldier for?”</p><p>“Oh, that,” Rogers replied, embarrassed.  “Stark called.”</p><p>“Oh,” was all Bucky said.  “Bad?” he asked a moment later.</p><p>“You have no idea,” Steve replied, adding a softening grin of his own.</p><p>“Well are you going to tell me?” Bucky asked rhetorically.</p><p>“According to Stark we’re dealing with a powerful being intent on murdering half of the galaxy in one stroke,” Steve explained.</p><p>Bucky mulled that over for a moment.  “Well,” he said finally, standing up “if that’s all then I’d say our good friend Mr. Stark is getting a bit alarmist in his old age.”</p><p>Steve grinned.  “Maybe so,” he admitted.  “Tony managed to beam an encrypted packet to one of his prepared safe spots, so we know as much as he does.”</p><p>“Really?” Bucky asked with a grin, alluding to Stark’s vast intellect.  He was in way too good a mood for someone receiving such dire news, particularly when that news came with a recruitment offer.  He knew that.  But he couldn’t do anything about it.  And . . . he wasn’t sure he wanted to.  It had been a long time since he’d felt this good.  Since he’d been him.</p><p>Steve’s grin this time was equal parts humor and humored.  He could only imagine what it would be like to finally have evidence that you were free of a dark alter ego.  And normally he’d indulge that release indefinitely.  But they had a mission, and not much time to prepare.</p><p>“I’m sorry Bucky, but we don’t have much time,” he explained.  “For security reasons Tony sent the location of the information cache via a couple of couriers.  We’ve got a full briefing ready in the next room”</p><p>“Right,” Barnes said, finally coming down from his high just a little bit.  “So how much is not much time?” he asked.</p><p>“If Tony can keep to his schedule, he should reenter the solar system in six hours,” Steve said while leading him to the door.</p><p>“Wait,” Bucky said, coming up short as those words registered “did you say reentered?” he asked with a boyish wonder.</p><p>“Who said the daydreams of twelve-year-olds were flights of fantasy?” Steve asked with a grin as they continued.  The memory of their pre-teen selves swearing that pact to make it to the moon shortly after reading ‘From the Earth to the Moon’ brought a warm glow to his chest despite the circumstances.  Or perhaps it was because he was finally really reunited with his friend from so long ago.</p><p>“Reentered,” Barnes repeated to himself as he followed his friend out.</p><p>T’Challa followed at a distance, flanked by Okoye and Shuri.  Apparently, he was only allowed one stupid act a day, king or no.  Shuri was silent.  Technically, so was Okoye, but her prior passionate protest was a palpable presence despite that omission.  It would not be long before it was voiced again, he knew.</p><p>“Not now Okoye,” he commanded before following the other two men.  She followed, clearly not satisfied, and just as clearly following his order over silent protest.  It wouldn’t last, he knew.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Training</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spaceship Sanctuary II<br/>En Route To Xandar Prime</p><p> </p><p>Loki watched in amusement as Thanos’s latest thug fell for his illusion.  As he watched, the three armed, two legged, half cybernetic monstrosity to nature reared back and delivered a crippling blow to the wall ringing their little arena.  He wasn’t stupid enough to admit it, but he was actually enjoying these trials; even this last.</p><p>The purple slaver had thrown him into the ring against his cast of twisted children almost immediately.  In reality the various bouts had been all too easy, almost child’s play.  Apparently, his court of cutthroats had no experience with figments of any caliber, let alone the masterful illusions he was capable of creating.</p><p>This fight had been bit more of a challenge.  He may even have lost it had he not recognized that his opponent was seeing into the infrared range.  If it hadn’t been for the fact that heat vision is not as precise as standard sight the thing would probably have gotten ahold of him while he was still dabbling in standard invisibility.  He shuddered to think of what those three arms might have done to him.  </p><p>Besides that, he’d seen what had happened to those he bested in the ring; well, the ones that survived anyway.  Once was enough for that experience as far as he was concerned.</p><p>Once he’d realized what was going on Loki had adjusted his tactics subtly.  He’d found it rather insulting that Thanos thought he couldn’t create illusions of heat as well as matter.  True, he’d never spent the time to master such illusions; he could never have created a perfect replica of his body heat the way he could duplicate his image.</p><p>But he was able to fill the room with the illusion of heat, effectively rendering that sight advantage useless.  Forced to utilize its normal sight, the hapless fool was in the same boat as all Loki’s previous victims.</p><p>Still, it wouldn’t do to allow his natural inclination to arrogance to blind him to the very real danger Thanos’s children represented.  For instance, he’d noted that many of them had augmented hearing, some almost to the point of having echolocation.  That was why he’d chosen to remain stationary as his next victim sparred with his light duplicate.  Had it any brains it would probably have noted the lack of sounds the weightless apparition’s footfalls made, but blind obedience came at a price.  One Loki had never been willing to pay.</p><p>Loki held his breath as the shadow boxing match worked its way back over to his side of the arena; he didn’t need the thing hearing his respiration, and the longer it was willing to play the fool the better, as far as he was concerned.</p><p>He was right to be so cautious.  As his opponent stepped past him, he took one step.  One little step, but it was enough to alert his cyborg adversary to his true location.  It whirled away from his duplicate, searching in vain for the source of the steps.</p><p>Loki’ mirth evaporated in a flash as he realized that if the thing got any closer it would probably be able to see through his heat screen.  It couldn’t completely hide him; a body gave off a varying array of infrared intensities that he couldn’t possibly duplicate at the moment.  It was more like an incredibly brightly lit room.  Nearly blinding, but if a sighted creature got within a few feet they could still make out that something was there.  That would be not good.</p><p>The creature sniffed the air like a bloodhound.  Loki wasn’t worried about that.  All it could gain from scent was a general location.  It already had that.  He was far more concerned about the slight burning sensation in his lungs.  All the thing had to do was continue standing there.  Eventually he’d have to breathe.</p><p>A cold anger filled Loki at the thought of losing.  But at the center of that rage was an even colder fear of what awaited him if he lost this engagement.  Either emotion by itself was hard enough for him to deal with, but when fear and anger began feeding on each other there was no stopping them.</p><p>Loki forced his way through the emotional brew and considered his options.  He needed the creature to back off so he could quell the rising volcano in his lungs.  Then he’d try sneaking up on it again; perhaps if he could make a loud noise in one direction while approaching it from the other.  It would take careful timing; he’d seen the things reflexes.  But he only needed a moment’s advantage.</p><p>A moment’s advantage.  That thought careened off the walls of his mind as another idea began to form.  If he couldn’t get rid of the monster perhaps, he could use its strength against it.  He very slowly moved his left hand around his body, trying desperately to keep his clothes from making any betraying rustling sounds the thing might hear.  It wasn’t easy considering the contrary messages for speed coming from his abused lungs. </p><p>As his hand cleared his hip, he flicked his wrist, sending the knife it held on an arc further behind him.  He’d considered trying to throw the blade over his adversary’s head in order to get it to turn away from him towards the noise, but rejected the notion for two reasons: first, he’d have had to put his arm in the already too narrow (in his opinion) gap between them, which might have been enough for it to sense him.  And second, because knives flying through the air did make noise.  It wasn’t much, but if it was going right over the thing’s overly acute hearing it could well be loud enough.</p><p>So, he tossed the knife behind him.  As his opponent heard the sound it predictably stepped towards it.  That’s when Loki struck, using the beast’s own momentum to help drive his second knife into the creature’s throat with a speed that a mongoose would envy, heaving air into his lungs at the same time.</p><p>Despite the viscous wound in its neck the creature still managed to make a counterstrike with its short sword.  Loki barely managed to dodge the somewhat wild swipe before darting back in.  As the need for stealth evaporated Loki’s rage drove in on him with a vengeance, causing him to stab the creature repeatedly while snarling insults in Asgardian. </p><p>Its frantic attempts to defend itself from his attacks became more and more uncoordinated as Loki stabbed it again and again.  Grey blood spurted out of each wound as he ripped his jagged daggers out of its flesh.  His front was covered in its blood.  It was lying in a pool of the stuff.</p><p>Eventually it stopped moving altogether.  Loki stood over his victim and gasped for breath.</p><p>“You show promise,” a deep voice said from above.  Thanos’s throne was positioned high above his coliseum so he could look in on all of the half spherical depressions that served as arenas.  It was shrouded in a darkness that did not seem to affect the user, but it was impossible to tell when Thanos was actually there.  Loki whipped around, collecting himself.  A thousand replies crossed his mind, all left unsaid.  It’s hard to be belligerent to someone who inflicts indescribable pain as a form of amusement. </p><p>“Twenty-three contests,” the voice continued in an almost approving tone “and twenty three victories.  Impressive.  But then,” he added as his tone shaded more into the ranges of threat “there is the small matter of the twenty-one corpses I’ve paid for those victories.  You will stop killing your siblings,” he added with surety.</p><p>“They aren’t my siblings,” Loki replied without thinking.  Normally he was smart enough to just keep quiet around Thanos, but it just slipped out.</p><p>Thanos leapt from the observation throne to land in front of him in a traditional super hero landing.  It was at least a hundred-foot drop, yet Thanos stood up as if he’d been simply kneeling.  He loomed over the Asgardian Frost Giant.  </p><p>“Oh?” Thanos asked as if Loki had said something humorous.  That worthy was smart enough to keep silent this time.  There was only one emotion worse than anger that can be provoked from a torturer, and Loki had just elicited it.</p><p>“Perhaps you don’t believe you belong with my children, Son of Odin?” he asked, his tone shifting from amusement to contempt.  Loki swallowed the affirmation that tried to escape his lips.</p><p>“You feel you are nothing like them; that you are somehow better?” Thanos continued to prod.  Again, Loki was silent.  He was in full damage control mode.  He knew he’d screwed up; all he could hope for was to minimize the damage he’d done.  Yet, nothing came to mind.  No form of placation or flattery seemed enough to sway the dreadnought in front of him.</p><p>“Ah, I see,” Thanos said suddenly in barely veiled mock sincerity.  “This is my oversight.  You haven’t had a chance to bond with any of them.  Of course,” he added thoughtfully “in order to bond with them you will need some common ground.  Come with me,” he ordered before pivoting on his heel and striding up the bowl.</p><p>Loki swallowed again in apprehension as he followed.  He’d seen Thanos’s power; if the sadistic bastard wanted him somewhere there was very little Loki could do about it directly.  Fortunately, indirect methods were his forte anyway.</p><p>Thanos led him out of the coliseum and through the maze of corridors in the ship.  Upon his arrival Loki had initially thought about escape, but he still wasn’t sure where anything was.  Sometimes he thought that he almost had the layout of the place figured out.  Other times he was certain the interior corridors were rearranging themselves.  It seemed ludicrous, but if he’d learned one thing it was not to underestimate Thanos’s capabilities.</p><p>Still, neither Thanos nor any of his goons seemed to have trouble going where they needed to, which meant there must be some system to the design he was missing.</p><p>All such ruminations cut short as the door Thanos had led him to opened.  He might not have known how to get to this room (nor would he ever come here willingly) but that didn’t stop him from recognizing it.  He’d done as much as he could to avoid ending up here again.</p><p>It was the first place they’d brought him to after they’d captured him.  Thanos had personally escorted him here, to his torture chamber.  Apparently, he liked to administer the orientation tortures for all his new children personally. </p><p>He’d fussed about picking the right machine for his newest ‘child’ like a wine connoisseur picking the right drink for a meal.  Instruments of reassociation, he’d called them.  Once chosen, Loki was strapped in.  Then Thanos had activated it.  And, after an eternity of what seemed to be unendurable pain, Thanos had informed him in that smug, all powerful voice, that what he’d experienced was the machine’s lowest setting.</p><p>He’d done everything he could to avoid ending up back here.  And yet, somehow, he’d known it was all futile.  Despite all of his placations and honey tongued answers, somehow, he’d known that Thanos wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to hear any one of his new recruits screaming in agony.</p><p>Was that why he’d taken such pleasure in killing as many of Thanos’s children as possible?  Had a part of him had known that he would inevitably end up here?  Or had it been pure blind contrariness that had pushed him?  Had he simply ignored the consequences he had to know were coming, buried them in some nebulous distant possible future that was easy to ignore?</p><p>But now, as he gazed on that machinery of misery, those consequences were decidedly not distant, and even less nebulous; it was right there, gloating at him like the massive maw of some horrible creature, eliciting a dread from him he’d never known.</p><p>He no longer cared if he could find his way through the ship or not.  He no longer cared about his plan to patiently wait for an opportunity to escape.  He was not going back in there.</p><p>He cast an illusion of himself while turning invisible and backing away.  It was the best illusion he’d ever cast, in his opinion.  It even came with the sound of breathing.  He couldn’t help but admire his craftsmanship as he stepped as lightly as possibly down the corridor.</p><p>“I can smell your terror” Thanos said calmly before he’d made a dozen steps.  Loki had just enough time to wonder if that announcement had been addressed to him or his illusion before the deck plates he was stepping so softly on warped into metal fists, holding him fast.</p><p>Thanos turned around and grinned directly at Loki’s invisible form.  “As I said,” he called out contemptuously without turning “your lies do not work on me.”</p><p>Realizing the futility of keeping up the distraction Loki dropped his illusions.  “I had to try,” he said, attempting his boyish grin and coming up short.</p><p>“I’d have expected nothing less,” Thanos replied as he stomped over to the ensnared Asgardian.  “Don’t worry,” he said placatingly as he wrapped one of those gigantic fists around Loki’s body.  The deck plates immediately retracted into their normal form.  “I won’t hold this pathetic escape attempt against you,” he assured the illusionist.  “This time,” he added, bringing Loki’s face within inches of his own.</p><p>Then the monster carried him effortlessly into the room and dumped him into the chair like device.  Of course, calling it a chair was a bit like calling Hitler neurotic; it belied the horrible nature of the subject. </p><p>There was a half second window in which Loki could have tried again to escape, but at what cost?  Thanos had already seen through his last illusion, and Loki was far less centered now than he had been then.  In the end he let the device close over him.</p><p>It was a different device than the last one.  Apparently Thanos liked to mix it up when it came to his tortures.  He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but he was leaning heavily towards not. </p><p>“Let me see, let me see,” Thanos murmured as he consulted a console.  “Nope not that one, nope, nope, nope,” he said as if he were a physician looking for the best treatment to an ailment.  Of course, in his twisted mind that might actually have been how he saw it.  “Ah, here we are,” Thanos said, ratcheting Loki’s panic up a few degrees past boiling.  He’d have pleaded for leniency if he could have found the means of controlling his mouth.  A small part of him was actually grateful that he seemed to have forgotten how.</p><p>But, watching Thanos eagerly flip through the settings in order to give Loki a custom-tailored torture experience was more than he could handle.  “Please,” he heard himself saying “I did what you asked.  I won the fights.”</p><p>“Did you?” Thanos asked, sounding suddenly amused.</p><p>“You could have said it wasn’t a fight to the death,” Loki continued.  “How can I possibly follow the rules when I don’t know what they are?”</p><p>“There is only one rule; do not oppose my purpose,” Thanos explained.  “Pain is the ultimate teacher,” he continued as he continued to fiddle with the settings.  “It shows us our limits.  It makes us aware of the level of control in our lives; of who is truly in control,” he added sinisterly.</p><p> “I know who’s in control,” he said fearfully, placatingly.  He hated himself for it, but the honest truth was that he would do anything to be out of that room.</p><p>“No, you don’t,” Thanos replied with a grin.  “Not yet.”  Then he activated the device. </p><p>Loki screamed.  He screamed and screamed until the pain response knocked him unconscious.  He awoke to more screaming, quickly recognizing it as his own.  He screamed until he was hoarse.  He screamed until his throat bled.  He screamed until the very act had cracked three of his ribs.  He screamed in pain as Thanos watched on, luxuriating in it.</p><p>And when Thanos finally shut the device off, he <em>thanked</em> him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Some Assembly Required</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Earth</p><p>Wakanda</p><p>Northern Plains</p><p> </p><p>T’Challa waited at the edge of the grass covered clearing with Okoye.  Steve Rogers and his band of outlaws had spread themselves out in small clumps along that side of the perimeter.  Shuri and Nakia were standing half a dozen feet away, talking quietly.  In fact, the only person being less than quiet was Colonel Rhodes. </p><p>He’d arrived with Widow earlier that morning, and was currently dancing through the grass like a puppy on speed.  He fell often, rolling back to his feet to continue.  T’Challa couldn’t say he blamed him; in truth, he’d always felt responsible for the Colonel’s injury.</p><p>That paralysis had been the direct result of accords he’d helped push.  He could have opposed them after the bombing, but he’d carried them to fruition, for his father’s memory.  And, when the colonel had become injured, he’d chosen not to offer Wakanda’s medical aid to heal him, just as his father would have done.  By the time he’d announced the truth of what Wakanda was to the world the damage had been past even their abilities to heal.  So, he was very happy for the colonel now.</p><p>Despite the colonel’s antics it was as close to a purely calm moment as T’Challa had come across in some time.  The wind was blowing gently.  There were only a few clouds in the sunny sky, as if only there to provide accent lighting.  It was that moment many artists tried to capture in their work.</p><p>It was hard to believe that anything could be wrong in the universe at moments like this, let alone the catastrophe that was apparently unfolding out there right now.  The knowledge of which only made him want to hold onto the perfection of this moment as long as possible.  But, alas it could not last.</p><p>“You should not be doing this T’Challa,” Okoye said, breaking the spell.  Honestly T’Challa was impressed with how long she’d kept her silence.  “These are not your people,” she continued, keeping her voice uncharacteristically diplomatic.  “You owe them nothing.”</p><p>“I am doing this for our people Okoye,” T’Challa said, deciding to table the argument of exactly what Wakanda owed The Avengers.  “This is a threat that affects all of us,” he added.</p><p>“I do not deny the threat,” she said.  “But these people can go without you.  Wakanda needs you here.”</p><p>“And if they fail, shall we stand alone against this storm?” T’Challa replied pointedly.</p><p>“Never since the creation of Wakanda has it needed its king more than we do now,” Okoye said.  “The threats I spoke of earlier have not simply vanished in smoke.  A storm is coming to Wakanda no matter what happens out there.  And if you are not here to guide us through it, I fear there may be no Wakanda when you return.  You cannot go,” she concluded.</p><p>“Nevertheless, I must,” T’Challa replied.  “But I have faith that Wakanda will survive even if I do not,” he added turning to her.  “My regent will assure it.”</p><p>“M’Baku will try I have no doubt,” she started, but a hand held up by T’Challa silenced her.</p><p>“M’Baku is not my regent, Okoye,” he said simply.  “Nor, I think, would he accept the position if I offered it.”</p><p>“Then who?” Okoye asked.  M’Baku had seemed the logical choice.  He’d nearly won the right to rule Wakanda in the challenge.  And, in the end, it was his people’s loyalty to him, and his courage that had saved the world from Killmonger’s insane reign.  There was honor and intelligence in that man.  He was a leader in his own right.  And he respected T’Challa.</p><p>T’Challa did not respond with words, instead turning to face her with one raised eyebrow.  “Oh no,” she said with a shake of her head as she took his meaning.  “I am a soldier, not a politician,” she stated.</p><p>“You are a soldier,” T’Challa agreed.  “But you have always been much more than that.  And your devotion to Wakanda is unparalleled,” he added.</p><p>“What about Shuri?” she asked.</p><p>“Shuri has no interest in ruling,” T’Challa replied.  “And she would be the first to admit that she would not make a good queen,” he added.  “Give her a lab and resources and she will be quite happy.”</p><p> “Yes, but . . .” Okoye protested before trailing off.  It was clear that the very thought of taking over as head of state scared her down to her toes.  Some might have seen that fear as weakness, but to T’Challa it was an affirmation that he’d made the correct choice.</p><p>He took her hands.  “You must do this,” he said earnestly, knowing she could not refuse him when the request was phrased as such.  “For Wakanda,” he added, piling on.  It took a moment but eventually she breathed deeply and nodded in agreement.</p><p>T’Challa said nothing.  Instead he touched his forehead to hers, a sign of sharing and trust.  “Thank you, Okoye,” he said quietly.</p><p>“For what?” she asked, only slightly bitterly.  It didn’t happen often, but she was usually much surlier when someone so expertly pulled the conversational rug out from under her.  It was something she was not accustomed to.</p><p>“For allowing me to go, knowing you will be here for our people,” he told her before releasing the embrace.</p><p> “If I am to be your regent,” she said with a steel in her voice “then I must make decisions upon my conscience.”</p><p>T’Challa turned around and grinned that boyish grin again.  “I would not have it any other way,” he replied.  “But I urge you, if you are ever unsure, seek out Nakia, Shuri, even M’Baku.  Consider their points of view.  Then make your own decision as you see fit.  My father once told me that a good monarch hears all of his counselors before going and doing what he pleases,” T’Challa added.</p><p>Okoye grinned in spite of herself.  “He never said that,” she declared with a shake of her head.</p><p>“Well, it loses something in the translation,” T’Challa replied with a grin that didn’t quite admit the falsehood.</p><p>She grinned again and turned to look in the distance.  By happenstance she ended up staring straight at the cargo containers that had flown themselves to the field only a few hours earlier. </p><p>“I would still like to know what was in those containers,” she said almost to herself eventually.</p><p>“As would I,” T’Challa agreed just as Shuri pointed upwards.  They followed her hand to a rapidly descending dot.  Very rapidly descending as far as anyone in the target zone was concerned.  It grew larger at an astonishing rate until reaching roughly five miles above the surface.  Then it activated the large engines on its underside.  Still, it was uncertain whether the lumbering space beast could arrest its momentum in time. </p><p>It looked nothing so much as a floating space whale.  But as it got closer and more detailed it became clear that this was a space whale that’d had quite a bit of mileage put on it recently.  Its hull was cluttered with the scratches and pits of high velocity impacts.  Scorch marks could be seen streaking across the hull.  And the patch job on the area surrounding the air lock was quite obvious.</p><p>“This is how you wish to go into battle?” Okoye asked skeptically as they watched it descend.</p><p>“It is beautiful isn’t it?” T’Challa replied, deliberately misinterpreting her scorn.  She scowled at him but said nothing.  They watched the rest of the landing in silence.</p><p>As the ship finally touched down the airlock opened to reveal Tony standing in his leisure suit.  A ramp expanded down to the ground.  T’Challa gave the three women with him one last embrace and joined the others as they assembled at the base of the ramp.</p><p>Tony said something they couldn’t hear and began walking down the ramp to meet them.  A moment later the cargo containers dotting the perimeter of the field lifted off and headed for the airlock in a long line.  It was like the world’s biggest version of Centipede hovering in the air over them. </p><p>The tension level in the group at the base of the ramp ratcheted up as Tony descended the steps.  Many of the people there blamed Tony specifically for the accords, for their transition from hero to outlaw.  For his part, Steve only swallowed, suddenly nervous.  Whatever mistakes he’d made, whatever mistakes Tony had made, he still respected this man.  He couldn’t help but feel nervous about their reunion.</p><p>Unbeknownst to him, Tony found himself feeling much the same way, had been since before the airlock opened.  A large part of him was quite upset with himself for telling the others to let him handle this unpleasantness on his own.</p><p>As if sensing the increasing tension Shuri yelled “Hi Tony” as he reached the base of the ramp.</p><p>Tony squinted into the sun to locate the source of the shout.  “Hey kiddo,” he said with a wave as he saw her.   “What are you doing hanging around these miscreants?” he asked, in a rather forced attempt to lighten the mood.</p><p>“Seeing my brother off,” she replied.  Tony stopped to look a question at the King of Wakanda who shrugged ever so slightly.</p><p>But before he could ask, Falcon spoke up.  “She’s a little young for you isn’t she Tony?” he asked with trademark disapproval.</p><p>“She’s at least twice as intelligent as you, flyboy,” Tony replied.  “What’s her age have to do with it?”</p><p>“Well . . . I just thought,” Falcon replied falteringly.</p><p>“You just thought I wanted the clawed king vying with Pepper over which one got to disembowel me,” Tony finished pointedly.  T’Challa grinned.</p><p>“Steve,” Tony said in guarded greeting to the man who’d, by some quirk of group agreement, been the first person in the party as he came within easy ear shot.</p><p>“Tony,” Steve replied just as guardedly.  There was an uncomfortable pause as Tony reached the group, as if none were sure what to say.</p><p>Finally, Tony offered his hand.  Steve took it without thinking.  “What the hell did you do to your hair?” Tony asked suddenly, as if he could no longer keep the reaction in.  Steve grinned at the outburst, their hands parting.</p><p>There was another moment of uncomfortable silence as Stark regarded the man standing next to Rogers.  “Sergeant Barnes,” he said eventually, holding his hand out again.  There was a considerably longer delay before Bucky returned the gesture.  “I think I owe you an apology,” Tony admitted mid shake.</p><p>“Yes, you do,” Bucky agreed.</p><p>“Well,” Tony said, clearly not sure what to say “we’ll get to that,” he said finally.  “Right now, we are short on time, so if you will all prepare to board as soon as the cargo loading is complete.”</p><p>“What’s in these things?” Wanda asked from the other side of the group.</p><p>Tony regarded her momentarily.  “Trust,” he said finally.  “Or desperation, depending on your philosophical bent,” he added with a shrug.</p><p>“Well you certainly don’t travel light . . .wait,” Steve said, staring at one of the containers “is that that kid from Queens?” he asked.</p><p>Everyone followed his gaze to where a red and blue suited figure could be seen clinging to the long end of one of the containers currently queued to enter the barely larger airlock.</p><p>“Shit,” Tony muttered forcefully hitting a button on his watch, stopping the entire procession.  “Peter,” he said into the unit, clearly frustrated.  “Get down here.”</p><p>Peter thought long and hard about his options.  He could do as Mr. Stark asked, in which case he’d have to hope his stubbornness outweighed whatever time constraints he was working under.  Or he could simply start stubborn by refusing to come down at all; that one had an appeal to it.  Or he could simply swing into the ship and hide.  Thanks to Karen he’d overheard Mr. Stark state they were short on time.  Afterwards there would be little they could do about his presence.</p><p>After taking that half second to consider all his available options he selected alternative three.  He released his grip on the floating container, webbed its lower edge, and swung towards the entrance.  It was going to be a tight fit, even for him; the train of containers had just happened to be halted with one half way through, negotiating the narrow (for them) passage.</p><p>Despite that he would have made it, if not for the stun blast Widow sent into that same crevice.  He pulled up on his rope to change his trajectory but that just brought him directly into the path of the second bolt she’d fired.  He bounced off of the door trim and fell to the deck unconscious.</p><p>“Nice,” Steve complimented her.</p><p>She shrugged.  “I’ve been trying to impress him with the need to be unpredictable.  I’d say I’ve failed.  Then again, I never thought he’d track me here,” she added with a shrug</p><p>“You clearly underestimate his gift with computers,” Tony replied.  “Wanda could you immobilize him please?” he asked.  Wanda glanced for confirmation at Steve who gave a slight nod of approval.  Tony noticed the interaction but said nothing, for a change.</p><p>A moment later Spidey’s unconscious body came floating down the ramp to the rest of them, supported on ribbons of red energy.  “That’s good, keep him there please,” Tony said as the unconscious teen came within ten feet of him.  He tapped his watch again to restart the loading sequence and bent over the hovering teenager.</p><p>“Parker!” he said sharply, attempting to wake the slumbering spider.  He got the same result most parents earn from such measures; namely a slight twitch before drifting back off to dream land.</p><p>Tony turned back to Widow.  “Did you have to use a full charge?” he asked in irritation.</p><p>She shrugged.  “He’s started building up a resistance,” she explained unapologetically.</p><p>“Build up a resistance?” Steve asked as if his brain was having issues accepting his ears’ report.  “Out of curiosity, how many times have you shocked him?” he inquired, turning to look back at her.</p><p>“As many times as he let me,” she replied simply, earning a slight shudder from all assembled.</p><p>Falcon whistled.  “Wow, that many?” he asked.  “It’s amazing the kid can still remember to breathe.”</p><p>“Um, yeah” Scott said raising a hand “how exactly was he able to do that?  I mean you guys aren’t seriously suggesting he managed to follow an infiltrator that the U.S. government has been unable to trail for over a year now, are you?”</p><p>“He didn’t follow me,” Natasha stated with certainty.</p><p>“Then how exactly did he figure out where we were meeting?” Stark asked.</p><p>“Well . . . I don’t-” Nat started before Shuri cut in.</p><p>“He’s the one, isn’t he?” she said excitedly, pushing through the crowd.</p><p>“The one pain in my ass, yes,” Stark replied.</p><p>“Mine too,” Steve replied raising his hand.</p><p>“No,” she said as she stepped onto the ramp to get a better look at Peter “I mean he’s the one who hacked our network.”</p><p>“Wait,” Rhodes said, as he spoke up for the first time “you mean to tell me that someone hacked <em>your</em> security?”</p><p>“Hey,” Shuri protested indignantly before falling silent.</p><p>“We were concerned,” T’Challa explained “about anyone else accessing the cache.”</p><p>“You were supposed to extract and delete the data,” Tony cut in.</p><p>“And we did so,” T’Challa assured him “but I thought it wise to keep an eye out for anyone else who might know how to access the drop point.”</p><p>“I installed a watchdog program into the cache to alert us if anyone else accessed it,” Shuri explained.  “But someone found it and traced it back to us.  They managed to get into our system, find the files, and leave before we were alerted.”</p><p>“And you think the kid’s the one that did that?” Bucky asked doubtfully.</p><p>“I never should have given him that computer for his birthday,” Tony muttered to himself.  “Friday,” he added “remind me to overhaul Stark Industries internet security if we get back.”</p><p>“Remind you to have me overhaul the security systems, aye boss,” Friday replied sardonically.</p><p>Tony ignored the jab to bend over the kid again.  “Peter,” he said.  When there was no response, he snapped his fingers directly over his face.</p><p>Peter jerked awake, struggling to stand in the field Wanda had him in.  “Wait, what is . . . what is this?” he asked as he fought to free himself of the red bands of energy holding him in the air.  “Mr. Stark?” he added noting Tony’s presence “Mr. Stark please put me down,” he pleaded.  Then he webbed the ground, trying to pull himself to it.</p><p>Wanda grunted in effort as she found herself fighting his surprising strength.  “He’s strong,” she said, intensifying her attempts to hold her prisoner in place.</p><p>“Peter,” Tony replied as Parker’s attempts to escape “Peter, stop it.”</p><p>It took a few tries, but eventually Peter heeded Tony.  “What is this?” he asked.</p><p>“Magic,” Tony replied.  “Now you can float there while you explain what you’re doing here.”</p><p>“I . . . I,” Peter stammered, suddenly embarrassed.  “I read the reports you sent,” he said finally.</p><p>“Those weren’t meant for you,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Who cares?” Peter demanded passionately.  “All that matters is that if you fail half of the universe will be killed.  I came because . . . well, I came to help,” he said finally.</p><p>“This is way out of your league, kid,” Steve said, stepping up to stand next to Tony.  “Sit this one out okay?”</p><p>“What difference does that make?” Peter asked exasperatedly.  If I stay here and you fail, I have what, a fifty percent chance of dying anyway?  And what about Aunt May?  Statistically one of us will die.  I can’t let that happen Mr. Stark.  I can’t.”</p><p>“You’re not ready,” Tony declared.</p><p>“I’ll never be ready in your eyes,” Peter countered.  “You’re so afraid that you’ll never give me a chance,” he added desperately. </p><p>“He’s got a point Tony,” Steve said.</p><p>“You mean besides the one on your head?” Tony snapped defensively.  It had never occurred to him that he might have been overprotecting Peter.  He didn’t think that was the case, but he couldn’t deny the possibility.</p><p>Steve took a calming breath.  “Look, I’m just saying that you have a tendency to let your conscience do your thinking for you in these circumstances.”</p><p>“And what circumstances would those be?” Tony demanded.  “Letting a teenager who can’t drive yet fight an intergalactic mass murderer?”</p><p>“That’s my point Mr. Stark,” Peter cut in.  “You need all the help you can get.”</p><p>Tony didn’t respond.  Instead he looked pleadingly at Steve, begging him to back him up.  “What do you want me to say Tony?” he asked.  “The kid’s got skills.  And he’s right about the risks either way.”</p><p>Stark turned away from the both of them and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think.  It was much harder than normal.  He was completely against Peter coming, but suddenly he wasn’t sure why.  Was he being overprotective?  Or were they being reckless.  Of course, Peter would want to come.  Who doesn’t want to work with their idols?  But he’d have never expected Steve to back the kid.</p><p>“What do you think Natasha?” Tony asked eventually, still pinching the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she responded, sounding shocked.  “Did you just ask for my opinion?”</p><p>“Don’t let it go to your head,” Tony replied quickly.</p><p>Widow blinked at that.  “Well,” she replied “Peter’s main issue is his predictability, which really shouldn’t matter against a new opponent.  I’d say he’s got a better chance of survival than most of us really.”</p><p>“Really?” Tony, Steve, and Peter all asked at the same time.</p><p>She shrugged again.  “Well, it’s not exactly a premonition; I’ve never seen this Thanos guy fight.”</p><p>“So, you think we should take him with us?” Tony asked, pressing her for a straight answer.</p><p>Before Natasha could respond Okoye approached.  “My King,” she said earnestly, drawing the attention away from the debate on the legal age for super-heroing.  “I have just received word that UN forces have crossed our northern border.  They are heading directly here at maximum speed.”</p><p>“How long until they arrive?” he asked just as the roar of tank engines reached them.  The assembled group turned north just in time to see the first tank crest a rise roughly a mile away.  Others followed it.  Dozens of them.</p><p>Okoye began snapping orders into her bracelet communicator.  “Have the Empini mobilize.  Launch the interceptors.  Inform M’Baku of this breach,” she said in one quick breath. </p><p>“It is being done.  What are their orders upon arrival?” the bracelet asked.  Okoye looked questioningly to T’Challa.  T’Challa looked back, unsure of what to do.  Technically Wakanda was oath bound to abide by the decisions of the U.N. in these matters, and the U.N. had decreed the capture of the renegades.  Of course, his military could sweep the invading forces aside with the effort of the wind lofting a kite.  But in so doing, he risked making an enemy of most of the world.  Wakanda’s advanced technology would only avail it so far.  And history was replete with regimes wielding more advanced technology being brought low by numbers.</p><p>“That won’t be necessary,” Tony said quietly from T’Challa’s other side.  Despite the situation T’Challa was impressed; he’d been unaware of Tony’s move to stand beside him.  He might have said as much but something in the technologist’s face caught his attention.</p><p>“You personally will guarantee the safety of our people?” Okoye demanded.</p><p>“It won’t be necessary,” Tony repeated, making eye contact with the overprotective general.  As he repeated himself T’Challa realized what that look was about; Tony was about to do something he very much didn’t want to do.  Something he would hate himself for.  But it was also clear that he would do it.</p><p>“Tell our forces to stand down, Okoye,” T’Challa said as he acknowledged the older man’s sacrifice with a fleeting nod.</p><p>“My king!” she barked.  “We must not allow this-”</p><p>“That was not a request, general,” T’Challa replied calmly, while making eye contact with Stark; a sign of trust.</p><p>She stared at him a moment longer, the instinct to attack fighting her loyalty.  T’Challa ignored the delay; he knew the battle that was being waged within her, just as he knew the outcome. </p><p>“Ahh,” she growled in frustration before raising the bracelet to her lips once more.  “All units return to ready status,” she commanded, raising a defiant eyebrow at T’Challa.  Technically it was not the order he had given, but he let the difference between ‘stand down’ and ‘return to ready status’ go with a slight grin and half a nod.</p><p>“I sure hope you know what you’re doing,” Steve said from Tony’s other side, making the owner of said side jump slightly.</p><p>Tony cast a quick glance at Steve.  “I wish I didn’t,” he replied, turning his attention back to the impending convoy.</p><p>“What’s that mean?” Steve asked.</p><p>Tony glanced at him as if to explain, then thought better of it.  For a moment his face revealed an intense self-loathing, before being hidden behind his mask again.  “Ignorance is bliss,” he said instead.  Steve thought about pressing him more, but decided against it.  Whatever demons Tony was about to face were his to face.  He couldn’t help.</p><p>The rest of that short wait for the arriving units was carried out in silence.  As the armored vehicles arrived, they formed a semicircle around the group, keeping an interval of exactly fifty feet from the line of four in the front.  The maneuver was performed with parade ground like efficiency.  Both Steve and Barnes couldn’t help but be impressed by such precision, even if its ultimate aim was taking them into custody.</p><p>The tension of the moment stretched as the last vehicles took their places.  Once set neither side made any moves, as if waiting to see what the other’s intentions would be.  It was more than likely that at no time in the history of man had there ever been so much military power facing off.  Clearly no one wanted to be the one to be the one to start that fight, yet both sides clearly saw no alternative.  Except one reluctant man.</p><p>Eventually the rear hatch of an APC opened into a ramp.  One figure stepped out of that hatch and made his way to the neutral territory between the two groups.  He was dressed in the class A uniform of a United States general of the Army, replete with all the bells and whistles.</p><p>“Everyone, stay here,” Tony said before stepping out to meet him.</p><p>“Secretary Ross,” Tony said as they closed to within ten feet “I wasn’t aware you’d been reactivated.”</p><p>“Credit where credit’s due,” Secretary Ross replied ignoring Tony’s remark.  He’d had enough experience arguing with him over the last year to not let the too bright little prick gain the conversational upper hand so easily.  “You seem determined to self-destruct,” Ross told him.</p><p>Tony shrugged his watch out from under its cuff and pressed a button.  “I think it best if this conversation remained out of the ears of your electronic devices,” he explained.</p><p>“Why couldn’t you have listened, just once?” Ross asked, managing to expertly mingle pain and frustration in his voice.</p><p>“How’d you find us?” Tony asked, ignoring the complaint entirely.</p><p>Ross glared at him momentarily before shrugging his shoulders and glancing up at the ramp.  Tony twisted around to see Parker.  Wanda had released her hold on him allowing him to stand on his own two feet.</p><p>“I’ve suspected for some time that you might be using Peter as a go between,” he said slowly.  “We’ve had a mirror program on his computer since he connected it to the internet; turns out he’s quite skilled at cracking security, but not so skilled at creating his own.”</p><p>“Well, he’s young,” Stark replied.</p><p>“Yes, he is,” Ross agreed darkly.  “It would have been much better if you hadn’t used him for this,” he added.  “I personally like the kid.  I won’t enjoy sending him to jail.”</p><p>“You are not arresting him,” Tony nearly growled, glaring at the taller man.</p><p>“Yes, I am,” Ross replied matter-of-factly.  “I’m arresting him, you, and all of your friends, including the ones still on that ship.  You’re all going to jail for a long time.  Your equipment will be confiscated.  Oh, and we’re broadcasting this little drama over multiple links.  So, if any of you fail to cooperate the world will know it.”</p><p>“I wonder,” Tony replied “do you think it’ll notice when half the population drops dead?”</p><p>Ross looked disappointed.  “You don’t really expect me to buy that story, do you?” he asked, adding just a touch of condescension to his voice, for flavor.</p><p>“If you didn’t believe it then why did you sign off on the mission?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Because you were going to go either way,” Ross explained.  “Dammit Tony,” he added in exasperation.  “I tried; I really did try to keep you out of this hole you’ve so deliberately dug for yourself.”  Tony opened his mouth to reply, but Ross cut him off.  “No, don’t thank me,” he said.  “I didn’t do it for you.  I did it for your father.  He was a good man, a good friend.”</p><p>Tony stared at Ross as that rage returned.  Ross knew him well enough to know his biggest emotional triggers.  His lack of closure with his father was high on that list, and it pissed him off for the man to use it like that.  It even pissed him off to have his father used that way.</p><p>But for some reason it was not enough to get him to do what he knew had to be done.  Whatever else he’d done, whatever else was going on, this was still one of his father’s closest friends.  He’d been a figure in his life second only to Obadiah for years, until he’d learned the truth.  It simply wasn’t that easy to throw all of that away.</p><p>Sensing that the conversation was over, Ross turned to head back to his line.  The next words out of his mouth would be the orders to take them all into custody.  It would be the order that would make them all traitors in more than just name.  It would be the order that unleashed Armageddon on Earth.</p><p>So he cut them off.  “You know Dad used to talk about you too,” Tony called out.</p><p>Ross turned back around, presenting a ‘humor him’ face.  “And what did Howard have to say about me?” he asked, stepping back up to Tony.</p><p>“He said that you were a good man,” Tony replied candidly.  “He said that you were one of the few people he’d met in his life that was a true public servant.  He said that your greatest concern was the protection of the defenseless.”</p><p>Ross thought about that for a second.  “And I suppose this is the part where you tell me that releasing you serves those ends?” he asked doubtfully.</p><p>“He also said you were the most intransigent man he’d ever met,” Tony added, ignoring the question.  Honestly if he’d thought that argument would work, he’d have made it.  He’d have gotten down on his knees and begged the man to let them leave.  But Tony’s last statement was simply too true for that to have worked.  “He said,” Tony continued “that once you’d assessed an issue there was simply no dissuading you.  Your course was set like a freight train.”</p><p>“He said all of those things?” Ross asked.</p><p>“He did,” Tony affirmed.  “The events in Chile, however, I had to find out on my own,” he added softly.</p><p>Ross’s entire demeanor changed at the mention of that particular nationality.  The confidence his face had held for the entire exchange evaporated; his eyebrows flew up, his mouth dropped, and his eyes held a horror Tony had only ever seen in the mirror.</p><p>“You know?” Ross whispered.</p><p>“I also know that a secret court martial exonerated you, and the file was sealed,” Tony added.  “And I know that the UN never saw that file when you were vetted for this position.”</p><p> “How long have you known?” Ross asked suddenly.</p><p>“Since I was sixteen,” Tony replied.</p><p>“That’s why you distanced yourself from me, isn’t it?” he asked.</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “At the time I thought it made you a monster,” he replied.  “But now I realize you had nothing but shit choices, and you chose the one that smelled the least.  But you and I both know the UN won’t see it that way.”</p><p> “That’s why you told me about the Avenger initiative,” Ross said in an almost admiring tone.  “You knew I’d do whatever I could to gain control over that group, and you thought this would make me your pet P.R. guy.”</p><p>“Something like that,” Tony said with a shrug.</p><p>Ross studied Tony for a moment.  “What’s the one they say about genius?” he asked suddenly.</p><p>Tony blinked in surprise at the odd conversational tangent.  “The difference between it and insanity is measured in success?” he asked.</p><p>“No, the other one,” Ross said.</p><p>“You know, it technically doesn’t count as ‘the one’ if there’s more,” Tony pointed out.</p><p>Ross laughed, admiring Tony’s nerve.  “I have to give it to you Tony,” he replied.  “You’ve got chutzpah.  Here we are smack in the middle of the biggest military buildup in the history of the world and you want to argue semantics.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Tony replied automatically.  “However, I was pointing out that a guessing game was probably a waste of our time, given the circumstances.”</p><p>“I was referring to the one about how genius still makes mistakes, but that they are a higher class of mistake.”</p><p>A dozen interpretations of that statement flashed through Tony’s mind in half a second’s time.  None fit.  “I’m sorry, I’m not following you,” he admitted finally.</p><p>“It’s just that, you think a servant of the people wouldn’t go to jail if he felt it would help those people,” Ross said pointedly.  “And that’s if he truly believed your threat in the first place,” he added, stepping into Tony’s space.</p><p>That space’s owner remained completely calm.  “Thaddeus, I have no doubt you would go to jail for the right reasons,” Tony replied.  “But would you willingly dismantle the oversight you’ve so painstakingly constructed?” he asked.</p><p>“The United Nations advisory board will continue without me,” Ross replied confidently.</p><p>Tony gave him a look as if he couldn’t believe Ross had said such a thing.  “Please,” he added in a tone designed to augment that look “you and I both know that the fact that the UN can agree to meet at the same time on the same day is proof of phenomenal aids.  Getting them to agree on you was hard enough, and you’re a four-star general with more ribbons and awards than the boy scouts even have, not to mention that CMH.  You go down this way and they’ll devolve into their usual political infighting.  Confidence in the accords will sublime away faster than dry ice, particularly when Wakanda withdraws its support, with a no doubt touching speech.  The ninety-day deadline on voting someone into your office will pass, and the accords will disintegrate.”</p><p>“That’s why your lawyers fought so hard for that little detail,” Ross accused as the final pieces fell into place.</p><p>“Believe it or not I actually do agree with the concept of the accords,” Tony replied.  “But the odds that the UN wouldn’t micromanage the Avengers into impotency, whilst simultaneously patting themselves on the back, were the same as those of the next lottery winner being a dolphin named Splash.”</p><p>“You agreed with the accords, yet you sabotaged them,” Ross nearly snarled.</p><p>“Secretary Ross,” Tony said formally “we are getting on that ship one way or another.  We are not doing it for you, or the UN or the US or any other political body.  We are doing it for Earth.  And there is a good chance most of us come back.  The only uncertainty here is whether you go to jail, the accords implode, and exactly how many of your fine soldiers here die trying to stop us.”</p><p>“You can tell them whatever you want after we’re gone,” Tony added.  “Tell them we convinced you of the greater threat.  Tell them you decided not to throw these men and women’s lives away,” he added with a wave at the assembled troops.  “Tell them a death sentence is an acceptable punishment for our transgressions.”</p><p>As Tony spoke Ross’s facial features passed through several categories, from anger to frustration, before finally landing on concern.  “Tony,” Ross pleaded “if this is a suicide mission then don’t go.  We’ll put an official team together.  I can get work pardons for your friends.  Just . . . let’s do this the right way.”</p><p>“There’s no time,” Stark replied.  “I don’t even have time to explain all of this to you,” he explained as he shrugged his watch back out and deactivated his electronic scrambler.  “I have to go, now,” he added before turning on his heel and marching back to his side of the line, not even waiting for Ross’s decision. </p><p>“Sir, what should we do?” a voice asked over the secretary’s ear bud.  He didn’t respond immediately; the brazenness of that act of defiance was almost more than Ross could handle.  He almost called his men down on the Avengers despite the aforementioned consequences.  But he didn’t.  He couldn’t.  He didn’t agree with Tony’s choice, but he had to admit it was now out of his hands.  This would now be a matter for diplomats to hash out.  And as much as the sudden turn of the tables angered him there was also fear.  Fear of the consequences for the world if he did stop the Avengers here.  Fear that he might be wrong.  Fear for his godson who was apparently about to embark upon a suicide mission.</p><p>“Sir?” the voice asked again.</p><p>“Stand down,” Ross said finally.</p><p>“Sir?” the voice asked in confusion.</p><p>“I said stand down.  All tracks minus mine are to return to staging positions,” he added just as T’Challa stepped up to him.</p><p>“You have invaded our country, Secretary Ross,” he said bluntly.</p><p>“I wouldn’t protest too greatly if I were you, being that your country just happens to be the first signatory to The Accords,” Ross replied coolly.</p><p>“Perhaps,” T’Challa admitted “but I must warn you, Secretary Ross, if you should ever again perform such an act I will be forced to intervene.  I am sure you can understand, as a leader, the need to discourage such behavior.”</p><p>“Now, King T’Challa, surely you read the open extradition portion of the Accords,” Ross replied.</p><p>“I have,” T’Challa replied “but I must inform you that Wakanda will be withdrawing from The Accords.  I will make a statement as such when I return.”</p><p>“If he returns,” Okoye corrected from his elbow.</p><p>“As such,” T’Challa continued, ignoring the interruption “we will no longer be subject to that clause or any other in that agreement.”</p><p>“You know that’s not how it works King,” Ross replied.</p><p>“Are you suggesting that you won’t accept our withdrawal?” Okoye demanded sharply.</p><p>“Not at all,” Ross replied evenly.  “Wakanda was free to withdraw its signature from The Accords up until the moment it was found to be in violation of them.  Wakanda may still, after it deals with the consequences of its malfeasance.”</p><p>“You would hold all of Wakanda accountable for this?” Okoye asked.</p><p>“Only its King,” Ross replied, leveling his gaze on T’Challa, who simply returned it.</p><p>“Over my dead body,” Okoye spat, gripping her spear tighter.  It was clearly an effort for her to not level it in Ross’s direction.  Inwardly T’Challa was impressed at her restraint.</p><p>“Of course, other arrangements could be made,” Ross replied smoothly “if Wakanda were to refrain from withdrawing.  There would, of course, need to be bonded assurances that no such transgressions might occur in the future.”</p><p>“In other words, your concern for the viability of The Accords, should we withdraw, is greater than your need to punish me,” T’Challa interpreted.  Ross gave a slight flick of the wrist that suggested T’Challa had the right of it, without ever actually agreeing.  T’Challa caught the gesture and nodded, more to himself than anyone else.  Then he locked his gaze on the American’s.  “Understand me Secretary Ross,” he said in an unwavering yet somehow respectful voice “these people are under the protection of Wakanda.  As such it would look unfavorably upon any negative actions taken upon them.  This is my word as King of Wakanda.”</p><p>“Now that doesn’t sound like the statement of a King,” Ross observed.</p><p>“Tell me about it,” Okoye muttered.</p><p>“It is the statement of a man who has recognized the grievance he has helped to perpetrate upon innocent men and women.  If no one else will, I will attempt to rectify it,” T’Challa said quietly before turning to head back to the group.</p><p>“I fail to see the grievance involved in demanding accountability,” Ross called after him, halting the king’s pace.</p><p>“I have since come to recognize the hypocrisy in that agreement” T’Challa replied without turning around.  “We judge them for fighting the battles thrust upon our world,” he continued, not waiting for a replied.  “We condemn them for the invasions of another’s soil that our own countries have perpetrated time and again,” he added before turning around.  “We drove a wedge between friends for no other reason than our own fears.  And here you stand, ready to arrest them as they willingly embark on a mission for you, that will most likely see their end.  Can you not see the injustice in that?” he asked, stepping back towards the Secretary.  “Or can you, as a member of the United States military, look me in the eye and say that you have not yourself been responsible for similar acts?”</p><p>Ross flinched ever so slightly as that particular question was leveled against him.  Thanks to Tony’s revelation the events in Chile were already uppermost in his mind.  The king’s question simply gave them a conduit with which they could rise up and slap him in the face yet again.</p><p>“Nor can I,” T’Challa confided softly.  “Where were the calls for international oversight then?” he asked a moment later.  Before Ross could say anything, he turned to head back to the group.</p><p>He made it back just as the last of the cargo containers disappeared into the ship.  The hatch was only empty for a moment before Tony returned from sorting his things.  “All aboard!” he announced loudly.</p><p>T’Challa pushed through the semi-line that was currently forming at the base of the ramp.  “I will be accompanying you as well,” he said to Tony.</p><p>“With all respect,” Steve said from his side “your place is here.  You’ve done far too much for us already.”</p><p>“This, I do for my people,” T’Challa replied.</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “We need all the help we can get,” he said pointedly to Steve.  “And he definitely qualifies as help.”  It was clear that Steve wanted to object further, but in reality, it wasn’t his choice.  The king was a grown man, perfectly capable of making his own mistakes if he so chose.  And Tony knew more about what they were walking into than he did.</p><p>“Alright,” he agreed eventually, adding a sigh of discontentment for effect.</p><p>“Welcome aboard,” Tony said holding out his hand.  T’Challa took it, gave a quick nod to the both of them, and stepped into the ship.</p><p> “What are you the conductor now?” Steve asked.</p><p>“I don’t have the hat for it,” Tony replied offhandedly before raising his voice.  “Next,” he bellowed, keeping a hawk’s eye on the crowd.  What he was looking for was three people down, directly in the center of the ramp.</p><p>Realizing he was busted Peter altered his course, stopping directly in front of Tony. “I’m going too,” he said as firmly as his sixteen-year-old voice could manage.</p><p>“Didn’t we just cover this?” he asked, adding a touch of annoyance to his voice.  “You are most certainly not going.  Even if I survived this fight, Aunt May would kill me.”</p><p>“You need me,” Peter said with a certainty belied by his stature.  Tony glanced to Steve for help.</p><p>Instead it was Steve’s turn to shrug.  “I hate to say it,” he replied “but we need all the help we can get.  And-”</p><p>“-and he definitely qualifies as help,” Tony cut in, mouth twisting in bitterness as his words of all of twenty seconds ago were turned on him.  But still he didn’t want to take the kid with him.</p><p>“Um,” Ross spoke up from the back where he’d been ruminating on T’Challa’s words “I’d just like to point out that if you don’t take him, I’ll have to arrest him for his collusion to subvert The Accords.”</p><p>Tony glared daggers at the two men.  “Fine,” he said at last, with more than a touch of annoyance in his voice.</p><p>“Thanks Mr. Stark,” Peter replied before webbing his way into the ship.</p><p>“Let’s get out of here before anyone else decides they should tag-” Tony started before a shout from one of Ross’s soldiers cut him off.</p><p>“Incoming!” he yelled pointing up at the sky.  The collected groups looked up as one to see a small speck heading their direction. </p><p>Friday immediately overlaid Tony’s sunglasses with an enhanced version of the image.  “Crap,” he said reflexively as he recognized the red suited figure.  “Friday, where’s the crazy bastard going to hit?” he asked.</p><p>“Assuming he maintains his trajectory he should hit the foot of the ramp in four seconds,” she replied.</p><p>“Everyone away from the ramp base,” Tony yelled.  A continually widening circle formed nearly instantly, centered on the base of the ramp.  It was as if he’d parted the heroic seas.</p><p>He had little time to be amused at that thought before the figure landed on the soft plains, leaving a shallow, insane man shaped crater.  In all reality the body should not have stayed together, but the fact that it had did not surprise Tony in the least.  Everything about that man defied reality.</p><p>“What the hell?” Steve asked from beside him.</p><p>“Just wait,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to shut this day out, even if only for a moment.</p><p>Meanwhile the rest of the assembled groups approached the crater tentatively.  “He’s wearing a chute,” Hawkeye noted, standing near what had once been the head.</p><p>“Why didn’t it deploy?” Natasha asked, coming to stand next to it.</p><p>Falcon nudged the corpse’s red boot with his own.  “Whoever he was he’s dead,” he announced.</p><p>“Really?” Scott asked sarcastically.  “Is that what happens when you don’t use your chute?”</p><p>“Have you seen some of the people in this group?” Falcon replied.</p><p>Scott thought about that for a moment.  “All right, I’ll give you that one,” he said grudgingly.</p><p>“Aw, that sucked,” the corpse said, cutting into the conversation as it started getting up.</p><p>“What the hell?” Falcon asked, leaping back from the apparent zombie and drawing his guns.  Pretty much all assembled followed suit in their own way.</p><p>“Do we shoot it?” Rhodes asked from where he was hovering over the pack, every weapon in his arsenal pointed at the slowly moving . . . whatever it was.</p><p>“Next time Deadpool,” the corpse chided itself “pack the chute, then get drunk.”</p><p>“Feel, free,” Tony replied in a calm voice that drew a few stares.   “It won’t make any difference.”</p><p>“I thought zombies weren’t real?” Steve demanded.</p><p>“He’s not a zombie,” Tony replied.  “At least, I don’t think he is.”</p><p>“He?  You know this guy?”</p><p>“He’s the bag of crushed nuts that stole Peter’s suit,” Tony said.  He immediately regretted that analogy.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I’m all right,” Wade called out, raising his right arm in a thumbs up.  The motion was punctuated by many loud cracks as the bones in his arm snapped back into place. </p><p>“Is he setting his own bones?” Steve asked, looking both confused and repelled at the same time.</p><p>“Yes,” Tony said simply.</p><p>“You know it doesn’t work that way, right?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Yes, I know,” Tony replied without elaboration.</p><p>“Well,” Deadpool continued as he slowly climbed out of his impact crater, setting various broken bones as he went.   “You *crack* know what *crack* they say.  Any *crack, crack, crack* landing you can *crack* walk away from is a good *crack, crack* one.”  He then proceeded to bend backwards as far as he could go, creating a rapid-fire series of cracks.  One of the soldiers in Ross’s group suddenly fell to his knees, puking his guts out.  Apparently that particular stretch was the last straw.  Several of those in attendance looked pretty close to that same reaction.  The other half seemed on the verge of laughter.  Tony was busy rolling his eyes heavenward as if to ask ‘why me?’.</p><p>“Was it something I said?” Wade asked in confusion.</p><p> “Wade, what are you doing here?” Tony demanded.</p><p>“Hey, it’s Deadpool,” Wilson insisted.  “Get it right.”</p><p>“Why.  Are.  You.  Here?” Tony ground out.</p><p>“Well I didn’t know you had to RSVP to save the galaxy,” Deadpool replied defensively.  “But if you must know, my agent said there was a part for me.”</p><p>“He has a super hero agent?” Falcon asked.</p><p>“Wait, I don’t have a super hero agent,” Scott replied sounding hurt.</p><p>“No, I do not have a super hero agent,” Wade snapped at the assembled group.  “That would just be weird.”  Before they could ask, he began walking up the ramp, with an accompaniment of smaller cracks as the rest of his bones snapped into place.</p><p>“Alright I give; who is this guy?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Deadpool, or Mr. Pool if you prefer,” Wade replied taking off his hood and holding his hand out.  Steve took it cautiously.  “Mercenary for hire,” he added.  “Whether you’re looking to have your nemesis dismembered, or perforated, I can handle it.  No job is too big.  Many fees are too small.”</p><p>“This guy stole Peter’s suit?” Steve asked Tony.</p><p>“He slipped it out of his bag,” Tony explained.  “I found him swinging around New York scream singing some made up Spiderman theme song, while Karen administered continual shocks in an attempt to get him to take it off.”</p><p>“The shocks to the groin were the best,” Wade said.  “Hi Karen,” he added, waving at the suit.</p><p>“Lethal mode activated,” Karen stated, shifting Peter’s suit functions.</p><p>“Karen stop it,” Peter countermanded.  “I thought I told you to remove that mode.”</p><p>“I’m confused,” Steve said, ignoring the kid’s fight with his suit.</p><p>“I’m sure this isn’t the first time,” Wade cut in.</p><p>“How did this guy even know who Peter was?” Steve continued, ignoring the slight as well.</p><p>“He wouldn’t say,” Tony replied shortly.</p><p>“Yes, I did say,” Wade replied.  “You just don’t listen.”</p><p>“A character flaw we can all attest to,” Clint replied.</p><p>“Let me rephrase,” Tony replied.  “You refused to say anything that made sense.”</p><p>“It makes perfect sense,” Deadpool countered without elaboration.</p><p>“In what universe does the design of a suit indicate who owns it?” Tony demanded.</p><p>“Well, Miles Morales has a black suit, Gwen Stacy has a black and white suit, Gerry Drew has-” he said, clearly working up steam.</p><p>“Like I said, ‘nothing that makes any sense’,” Tony cut in.</p><p>“Granted, but a guy that can survive falling from a plane, severe electric shock, and apparently gunfire could be useful.”</p><p>“Useful is not the word I’d use to describe Wade Wilson,” Tony replied, with a raised eyebrow for effect.</p><p>Before anyone could reply T’Challa stepped through the pack onto the ramp.  “How did you know where we would be?” he asked.</p><p>“Am I the only one that read the script?” he asked in a disappointed manner.  T’Challa simply looked confused.</p><p>“Like I said, he’s insane,” Tony said.</p><p>“Well I like to think of sanity as just one possible viewpoint,” Wilson offered, as if such a revelation would be endearing.  The looks on their faces quickly disabused him of that notion.  “Besides, you need all the help you can get, don’t you?” he added.</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “He’s got a point,” he added.</p><p>“Are you serious?” Tony asked, turning to Rogers with a look that meant same. “He’s pure chaos.  There’s as good a chance he’ll kill us as anyone else.”</p><p>“Actually, as it turns out, I’m the least likely to kill you,” Wade replied.  “I know, it surprised me too,” he added.</p><p>“You just jumped out of an airplane with a drunkenly packed chute,” Falcon pointed out from behind.</p><p>“Again, Wingboy, I read the script,” Wade said, twisting back to glare at Falcon.</p><p>“If this Thanos guy’s as bad as you say then we’re not in a position to refuse help Tony,” Steve said firmly.</p><p>Again, Tony’s eyes flew to the heavens in disbelief, this time with the addition of shaking his head slightly.  “Fine,” he grated “but we need to leave, now.”  With that he turned and marched up the ramp.  “I don’t like how close we’re shaving this as it is,” he added as he checked his watch.</p><p>“What’s the rush?” Steve asked as he fell into step behind him.  The others followed him up and into the ship.  Despite the direness of the situation they couldn’t help but swivel their heads around, trying to take in everything they could about their very first real life, actual scale, spaceship.</p><p>“We’ve had some time to dig up some data on these Infinity Stones,” Tony explained without stopping.  “They aren’t exactly what you’d call team players.  When a stone’s bonded with the Gauntlet it cancels all the others out for a set duration.  The duration is based on the order the stones are emplaced.  Think of it like a combination lock to the universe’s biggest WMD.  That order just so happens to be the one Thanos is following.”</p><p>“Which means the next stone will be the power stone, which is on Xandar Prime,” Quill cut in as he approached the group.  “These science guys always take so long to say anything don’t they?” he added, with a wink at Natasha.  She ignored him.</p><p>Tony ignored the interruption, instead taking a quick headcount.  Then he touched his earpiece.  “Rocket, we’re all in.  Get us moving,” he said.  “And if we can pick up any speed it would be advisable.  This reunion’s already taken three times as long as I’d hoped.”</p><p>“Wait,” Quill objected “who put you in charge anyways?”</p><p>“I’ll second that question,” Hawkeye called, raising his hand.</p><p>“Thirded,” Lang added, raising his hand uncertainly.  “Is that right?” he added in whisper form to Wanda.</p><p>“Do I look like I’m from Britain?” she asked.</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tony replied, focusing on Quill “did you want to stop to see the sights?  Maybe do a little curio shopping for that perfect souvenir for the end of the universe?”</p><p>“Well, uh . . . no,” Peter responded slowly.  The ship lurched upwards before anyone else could say anything.  “Uh, nice to meet all of you,” he added with a rather uncomfortable wave to the newcomers, whom he was just realizing outnumbered his own group significantly.  “I’ll just be over here,” he added before heading forward.</p><p>“I wasn’t kidding Tony,” Clint said.  “After the mess you made with The Accords, I’ll be damned if I’m following you now.  Hell, you’re lucky we’re here at all.”</p><p>“Clint, this isn’t helping,” Steve said warningly.</p><p>“Look, I’m sorry Cap,” Hawkeye replied unrepentantly “you know I’ll follow you anywhere.  But he was content to let us rot in that hole.  I don’t trust him.  I don’t know how you could.”</p><p>Tony stared at Clint as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Steve opened his mouth to answer for him, but a motion from Bucky closed it again.  “Steve,” he murmured “these issues need to be dealt with.”  Steve glanced at him in surprise.  Bucky simply nodded slightly, and took a step back.  Cap hesitated for a moment, then followed suit.</p><p>Tony, meanwhile, had decided that, yes, he really was hearing what he thought he was hearing.  A dozen emotions flashed over his face as he considered his response.  Finally, he simply turned and began to stalk off.</p><p>“What; nothing to say?” Sam called after him.  “I guess that’s your MO then isn’t it?” he added.  Tony stopped, a sort of morbid curiosity about what that statement meant holding him there.  “I mean you didn’t say anything when that old bastard put us away did you?”</p><p>“Yeah, how exactly did you get him to let us go this time anyways?” Scott chimed in.  “He doesn’t strike me as the type to quit while he’s ahead.”</p><p>Tony winced at that question, cursing the halt his curiosity had imposed on his angry march.  But he couldn’t just continue it now.  The question would only come up again, and again.  But that didn’t mean he wanted to tell a bunch of ungrateful punks the truth.  “Maybe he’s just more willing to cooperate than you,” he said instead.</p><p>“That is not what you said to him,” T’Challa spoke up from the back.  Until that moment he’d been resolved to simply sit in the back, arms crossed, and observe what was essentially a family squabble.  But whether Tony knew it or not, he was certain that lying about what had happened would only come back to bite them all later.  Besides, he’d gotten a feel for the man in their dealings and he had no doubt of the outcome.</p><p>“And how would you know?” Tony asked, half turning to glare at the king.</p><p>“Oh, you disabled all electronic eavesdropping methods,” T’Challa explained “but my hearing far surpasses normal human ranges.  And I believe they have a right to know,” he added.  This statement was met with general agreement from the group.  Even some of those who weren’t officially outlaws at this point chimed in.</p><p>Tony looked up at the bulkhead in frustration before closing his eyes as if to try and master the feeling.  By the set of his jaw he was less than successful.  Eventually he sighed in defeat.  “Ross was in command of a strike team attempting to recover an American warhead,” he explained.  “It had been acquired by terrorists intent on blowing up a city in Chile.  By the time they’d discovered the location it was too late to intervene.  So, he called in a cruise missile strike on the building it was in.  The building toppled into others.  In the end one hundred and sixteen people were killed.  But the strike damaged the bomb, keeping it from going critical.  In the end the Pentagon decided to make the entire incident disappear.  He tried to resign.  They refused his request.”</p><p>“You knew about this?”  Steve asked, shocked.  He’d also heard the conversation, thanks to his enhancements, but the specifics were a revelation.</p><p>Stark turned to face them.  “Why do you think I maneuvered him into going for control of the Avengers?” he asked pointedly.</p><p>“And that’s why you brought him to the compound,” Steve added.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rhodes demanded, speaking up at last.</p><p>“With over three hundred countries bugging the compound?” Tony asked incredulously.</p><p>“You could have blocked them,” Sam replied “like you did on the raft.”</p><p>“Blocking one bug is suspicious,” Stark replied.  “Blocking a few hundred is a criminal conspiracy.  Particularly when one side changes their minds in the down time,” he added.  “All I was asking for was a little heads up play,” Tony continued bitterly.  “Just a little trust that I had it under control.  But you couldn’t even bother to ask why I’d brought Ross to meet you in the first place could you?  Why-” he started, before stopping himself.  Whatever he was going to say wasn’t necessary anyway. The entire bay had fallen silent.  Tony turned back around to leave before he said any more.</p><p>“All this time,” Clint replied, matching Tony’s bitterness.  “All this time you’ve known.  All this time you could have ended this.  But instead you just let him hunt us.  You let him imprison us.  And you just held onto it until your ass was on the line.  And now, we’re supposed to trust you?” he added incredulously.</p><p>“Who are you to talk about trust,” Stark suddenly exploded, as he whirled on Clint “you’re the one that manipulated Wanda into leaving the compound!” Tony asked, coming right up to the other man.</p><p>“You were holding her prisoner,” Clint replied, staring Tony in the eye.</p><p>“I was-” Tony exploded before checking himself.  “I was trying to give her space,” he hissed.  “I was trying to keep her from having to choose between friends,” he added.  Clint flinched, whether from the sudden intensity of the other man’s glare, or the statement, no one was sure. </p><p>But Tony didn’t stop.  “You can tell yourself whatever you want; we both know this had nothing to do with her best interest.”  For once Clint didn’t respond.  Tony pressed the advantage by stepping even closer.  “All her life,” he continued quietly “she’s been manipulated.  First by me, then Strucker, followed by Ultron -which was kind of me again,” he added with a slight twitch that might have been considered something in the area of a grin.  “I’d have hoped you were better than that.  But you needed your heavy hitter, didn’t you,” Tony finished acidly.  Then he stomped off.  And for once no one stopped him.</p><p>In fact, no one said anything at all, allowing the silence to fill that section of the cavern.  Finally, the one person most comfortable with discomfort spoke.</p><p>“Never has any group been in more need of my services,” Deadpool stated suddenly.</p><p>“As what?” Sam asked before he could stop himself.</p><p>“As morale officer obviously,” Wade replied.  “Now if everyone could just hold-” he started before one word from Tony cut him off.</p><p>“Steve,” Stark said from where he’d stopped amidst his containers.</p><p>“Sorry,” Steve said unconvincingly to the red rascal before jogging up to Tony.</p><p>As he reached him Tony said “Friday, pop the seals.”  Half of the containers opened up.</p><p>Steve stared at their contents in disbelief.  “You’re kidding me,” he said finally.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>177A Bleeker Street</p><p>New York, New York</p><p>Earth</p><p>The elderly man regarding the door had to have been in his nineties.  Despite that he still had a shock of white hair haloing his bald head.  His well-trimmed mustache was as white as the hair on his head.  He was stooped with age, but not beaten by the years that came with it.  His horn-rimmed photo receptive glasses had tinted in the sun, making it hard to see his eyes.  He was thin, but not dangerously so.</p><p>He gripped the knocker mounted to the center of the door, giving it three strong raps, before taking half a step back.  A moment later it opened to reveal a young man of Asian descent in a dark robe.  “May I help you sir?” he asked with a slight bow.</p><p>“Why yes young man,” he replied good naturedly.  “Would it be possible to speak with the Master of the house,” he asked innocently.  Despite that the emphasis on the word ‘master’ was unmistakable.</p><p>“I am afraid he is quite busy at the moment,” the younger man replied apologetically.  “May I inquire as to the nature of your visit?”</p><p>“Yes, tell him I have a proposition for him; one that I feel he will be most interested in.”</p><p>“Sir” the young man demurred “I feel I must warn you that his interest in business is minimal.”</p><p>“Well, why don’t you let the Sorcerer Supreme make that determination?” he asked innocently.  The younger man’s eyebrows launched themselves upwards at the mention of Steven Strange’s little known title before he regained control of his face.  It was only a momentary lapse, but one likely not missed.</p><p>The novitiate hesitated momentarily.  “May I ask whose proposition he will be hearing?”  The young man asked cordially.</p><p>“Oh, how inconsiderate of me,” the elderly man exclaimed.  “Please tell him Mr. Lee would like to see him about a very urgent matter.”</p><p>“I will inform him of your arrival,” the novitiate said.  “Would you care to wait inside?” he asked stepping back into a bow, sweeping his hand towards the interior of the building.</p><p>“How gracious,” the elderly man said thankfully, taking a shuffling step towards the door.  The novitiate held a hand out to help him over the threshold.  Once the elder man was inside, he turned to shut the door.</p><p>As the light pooling the entryway was cut off the façade of a kindly old gentleman flickered, revealing a pale skinned creature that could not have come from Earth.  Ebony Maw silently cursed Nebula for the damage she’d done to his disguise device.  Fortunately, the young man had had his back to him when the malfunction occurred.  Hopefully there would be no more until he was finished shackling this Sorcerer Supreme.</p><p>&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>In FTL</p><p>Five Minutes From Xandar Prime</p><p>“Look, I’m not disputing that you have a way with people,” Quill said to Tony, with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice “but the Xandarians know us.  We gave them the orb for safe keeping.  Let me take the lead,” he added, glancing at all in attendance. The pilot’s compartment was actually quite cramped.   Aside from those two Steve, T’Challa, Gamora, Nebula, Vision, Thor, Rocket, and Heimdall were all in attendance.</p><p>“Might they be a little miffed that you’ve handed them a piece of bait?” Steve asked.</p><p>“And I’m less concerned with who does the talking then who calls the shots,” Tony added before anyone could answer.</p><p>“Oh, and I suppose that should be you?” Rocket sneered.</p><p>“Not particularly my strong suit,” Tony replied offhandedly.  “But, in my experience, neither is it yours,” he added, directing that last back at Quill.</p><p>“We can worry about who’s in charge <em>if</em> it’s necessary,” Gamora snapped, cutting Peter’s response off.  “Pushing the engines should buy us enough time to get the stone and get out before he gets here anyways,” she added, sounding more hopeful than sure.  In truth, anything was better than listening to them whine about who was in charge.</p><p>“And then we’ll have the bait,” Rocket added pointedly.</p><p>“Rocket,” Gamora and Quill snapped warningly.</p><p>“What?” the raccoon asked defensively.  “Have any of you considered that if we manage to get this thing we’re going to be running for the rest of our lives?  You’re nutzo father isn’t going to stop looking you know.”</p><p>“You have an alternative plan?” Thor asked.</p><p>“Well, no . . . not per say,” Rocket replied sheepishly.</p><p>“Then you would prefer to give him the Power Stone?” Thor persisted.</p><p>“All right I get it,” Rocket snapped. </p><p>Before anyone else could say anything, the ship came out of FTL.  The view screen at the front of the chamber flickered on automatically, presenting the view forward of the ship.</p><p>“Is that an asteroid field?” Vision asked.  “I’ve never seen one, but it looks.”</p><p>“It’s debris,” Nebula stated bluntly. </p><p>“One would have to destroy an entire fleet of ships to create such a cloud,” Vision replied.</p><p>“And yet the destruction is not complete,” T’Challa spoke up, gesturing to the side of the screen where a dozen ships were holding station.</p><p>“What are they waiting for?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“They await reinforcements,” Heimdall replied with a certainty they couldn’t question.  Besides, it made sense.</p><p>“It won’t matter.  We’re too late,” Nebula stated harshly.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” Tony replied, stopping her motion.  “Can you zoom in on that section,” he asked pointing to the upper hemisphere of the planet.  Heimdall hit a few buttons and the view expanded.</p><p>A collective gasp followed as the view zoomed in on Thanos’s ship, orbiting the planet.  The view of that monstrous ship provoked many reactions among the viewers.  Thor couldn’t help but think how close Loki was; he longed to get aboard that ship and rescue his brother.  Tony, Peter, and Rocket felt a resolve hardening; this monster would not best them again.  Gamora and Nebula felt a dread wash over them; there were no happy memories from that ship.  Heimdall and T’Challa felt suddenly small; the realization that they were big fish in little ponds was striking.  Vision and Steve couldn’t help but feel an awe at something that huge.</p><p>Gamora was the first to speak.  “He wouldn’t still be here if he’d found the stone,” she said with conviction.</p><p>“What difference does that make?” Rocket demanded.  “We can’t make it past that,” he added pointing at the screen.  “And even if we could we’d have to get by fat and ugly just to get the stone.”</p><p>“Why’s he even here already?” Quill asked.  “Didn’t you guys say something about a settling in period before he could place another stone?”</p><p>“Or use the current stone,” Tony added.  “That’s what the data we were given stated,” Tony said.</p><p>“Well, either the data is flawed, or your calculations are,” Quill said pointedly.</p><p>“Or he decided he didn’t need the gauntlet to break through the Nova Core,” Rocket countered.</p><p>“You think he’s sitting in the vault waiting for the timer to expire?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“Why wait; why not just take the stone with him?” Thor asked.</p><p>“It’s supposed to be placed in a weapon,” Rocket replied.  “Even he couldn’t hold it for long.”</p><p>“So?” Tony asked.</p><p>“He doesn’t have any other weapon,” Gamora explained.  “And he’d never trust the stone to anyone else.  If your right about the penalty for installing a stone before the gauntlet is ready, he’ll wait.”</p><p>“We need to get down there,” Steve said.  “Stop him if we can, before he can use the gauntlet.  Or take the stone if we can’t.”</p><p>“A noble sentiment, but it leaves the issue of how we get past the ship that just destroyed an entire armada,” T’Challa pointed out.</p><p>“You go around,” Clint said from the doorway to the chamber.  All turned to look at him, granting a variety of different looks.  He ignored them all in favor of stepping into the room.  “Load everyone into the ship we have docked.  Do a short FTL hop to the other side of the planet.  Then disengage, make a quick re-entry and skirt the surface to wherever we need to go,” he said, ending lamely.</p><p>“That’s a precision jump in a giant tub next to a massive gravity well,” Quill complained.  Several confused glances redirected themselves his way.  “It’s like trying to throw a dart past a massive magnet and still get a bullseye,” he explained.</p><p>“Could you do it?” Tony asked Peter.</p><p>“You do know who you’re talking to don’t you?” Peter asked, adding just a touch of arrogance to his voice.</p><p>“Not really,” Tony replied offhandedly.</p><p>Peter blinked, and somehow fought down the urge to use their ever depreciating time to expound upon his virtues.  “If anyone here can it’s me,” he replied with finality.</p><p>“Please, you’re the hotshot that almost got us crushed by an asteroid field.  If anyone’s going to pull this thing off its me!” Rocket replied, jamming his thumb into his chest.</p><p>“Me?” Quill yelled “we’d have been fine if you hadn’t-”</p><p>“Do we really have to do this now?” Gamora cut in.</p><p>“We are all going to die,” Nebula muttered to herself fatalistically.</p><p>“And neither of you is better than the other,” Gamora continued in a voice that belied arguing.</p><p>“What if we jumped in the smaller vessel?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Then the dart would be smaller,” Peter replied, leaving the implications of how much that would increase the difficulty unspoken.  The bigger ship was clearly their best chance</p><p>“Fine, we use the Nostromo,” Tony stated. </p><p>“It’s called The Statesman,” Quill corrected him.</p><p>“Whatever,” Tony replied, brushing the diversion off.  “You two can argue over who pilots.  Get everyone else suited and into the . . . what do you call it?” he asked.</p><p>“Vengeance,” Nebula said simply.</p><p>“Fine, get everyone into the Vengeance.”</p><p>“Wait, who put you in charge?” Peter asked.</p><p>“I second that,” Gamora said.</p><p>“Do any of you have a better option?” Tony asked pointedly.  There was no response.  “Does anyone here believe we won’t be targeted if he gets all the pieces?”  They remained silent.  “Then by all means, lets bicker about who gets to make the call.”  Again, there was no response, unless you count the flush of embarrassment on certain parties faces.  “Then let’s quit wasting time,” Tony concluded before turning to leave.</p><p>Steve caught up with him in the corridor.  “You really do need to be a little more circumspect Tony,” he chided.</p><p>“We don’t have time to coddle the children,” Stark replied without breaking stride.  “Christ it’s like a daycare in there,” he added, revealing a well of annoyance that was surprising considering he’d only known these people for three days.</p><p>“That’s not the point,” Steve replied.  “Being right’s often just a booby prize.  You can’t keep talking down to everyone and expect them to continue cooperating with you.”</p><p>“And how exactly should I address people who refuse to see the blatantly obvious?” Tony replied.</p><p>“Not everyone’s brain operates in FTL Tony,” Steve continued as they entered the cargo deck.  “Part of being a leader is giving people a chance.  You can’t expect everyone you meet to keep up with you.  It doesn’t make them idiots.”</p><p>“I don’t need them to think as fast as me,” Tony replied.  “They just need to be able to listen to reason.” </p><p>Steve grabbed Tony’s shoulder and turned the shorter man to face him.  “We need them to listen to us in combat, not ignore us because we’re condescending,” he said in earnest. </p><p>Tony blinked at that statement.  His gaze went distant for a moment as what Steve had been trying to say hit home.  It occurred to him that perhaps he wasn’t as immune to ignoring common sense as he’d thought.  For whatever reason Rogers innately grasped what he was trying to explain, and he was trying to explain it without the clipped sarcasm that had become Tony’s modus operandi.  Not that such a mode of communication didn’t have its uses, but he’d never considered that it might be something that would hurt his authority.  Probably because he’d never sought that authority in the first place, but that didn’t change the fact that he needed it now.</p><p>He gave an abashed grin and presented Steve a tight grudging nod before continuing.  “Sorry,” he said as they came back on course “it’s been a rough week.”</p><p>“Try a rough year,” Steve replied with a grin.  Tony chuckled at that.</p><p>“I’ll apologize to the others later,” he added as he keyed his containers open again.  “Right now, we need to get everyone suited up.”  Several of the people from Earth were already stepping into the containers.  They’d all been shocked when he’d shown them the custom-tailored powered armor suits he’d made for each of them, particularly after the argument previous. </p><p>Tony grinned slightly as he watched them approach gingerly, as if sneaking up on a sleeping guard dog.  Even after most of a day of practicing they still viewed the suits as foreign bodies.  But, however they felt personally, they each saw the advantage of a powered armor unit.</p><p>“On the Vengeance,” Steve agreed.</p><p>“God that’s a stupid name,” Tony complained. </p><p>“Try and keep that observation to yourself,” Steve replied with a grin of agreement.  Instead he turned to face the rest of the contingent from the briefing.  Gamora and Quill were in the lead.  Groot and Rocket were both absent.</p><p>Tony followed suit.  As he saw the approaching group their still warm conversation replayed itself.  Steve was right.  He knew that.  He just didn’t know how to not be blunt.  For the first time in a long time he just wasn’t sure what to say.  Steve glanced at him, surprised at his lack of vocalization. </p><p>“I thought you said Rocket was too short to pilot this ship,” Steve said for him.</p><p>“He said he and Groot could handle it,” Peter replied.</p><p>“Well then,” Tony said slowly as if still not sure if he was on solid conversational footing “I have some generic suits that should fit most of you.”  Steve turned yet another surprised expression on the technologist.  Just trusting the people he’d known for years with his technology had been a shock for said trustees.  Trusting nearly complete strangers, at least one of them being a full patch member of Psychopaths Universal, was unbelievable.</p><p>“Thanks, but we’re not interested in using retro tech,” Peter replied, just a hint of sneer creeping out the edge of his smile.  Tony looked as if he’d taken that comment personally for a moment before breaking into a full grin. </p><p>“Speak for yourself, Peter,” Gamora said as she cast a sideways glare at Quill before turning her attention back to Tony.  “We accept,” she said gratefully.</p><p>“Fifth container,” Tony replied with a nod in the appropriate direction.  She and Nebula headed off in the indicated direction. </p><p>“I would also like to accept your most generous offer,” Heimdall said, stepping forward.</p><p>Tony looked up, and up.  Then he took a step back to take in the Asgardian’s 7”2’ stature.  “I’m sorry,” he said finally “I didn’t have giants in mind when I built them.”</p><p>“I am not a giant,” Heimdall said sternly.</p><p>Tony cast a quizzical look to Thor.  “The humans use the word giant to mean anyone of unusually tall stature,” Thor explained quickly.  “He didn’t mean to suggest you were a Frost Giant.”</p><p>“I see,” Heimdall replied.  “Well, no matter.  I will await you on the ship,” he added, slinging his titanic sword over one of his shoulders and taking a step towards the ship.</p><p>“No, Heimdall,” Thor said before he could get any farther.</p><p>“My liege, I cannot countenance you going without protection.”</p><p>Thor reached up to put a hand on his friend’s mighty shoulder.  “I need you and your eyes here,” he stated.  “The Nostr-I mean The Statesman must leave once we’re off.  You’re the only one who will know when to return.  Besides, I’ll have Brunnhilde with me.”</p><p>“As you command,” Heimdall replied unhappily.</p><p>“Relax my friend,” Thor replied presenting a carefree grin.  “You alone know just how many fights I’ve been in.  I’ll be fine.”</p><p>“The humans have a saying,” Heimdall replied sternly “there’s a first time for everything.”</p><p>“I swear I’ll be careful, alright?” Thor asked.</p><p>“As you say your majesty,” Heimdall replied noncommittally.  “By your leave I will return to the bridge.”  Thor nodded his approval and turned back to Tony.</p><p>“What’s so funny?” he asked indicating the lopsided grin on Tony’s face.</p><p>“Oh, I was just wondering how many kings end up making promises to their vassals,” Tony replied.</p><p>Thor gave a warm grin as if that question had sparked a fond memory.  “All of the good ones, I think,” he replied.  Before Tony could say anything else Drax stepped forward.</p><p>“Would one of your suits fit me?” he asked simply.</p><p>“Possibly,” Tony replied “but I think the real question is whether your good to go.”</p><p>“No, he’s not,” Quill jumped in before Drax could reply.</p><p>“Yes, I am,” Drax said.  Tony braced himself for an ‘ahuh, nahuh’ argument.  But Quill surprised him.</p><p>“Drax I know you want to help,” the rogue said earnestly “but you’re still healing.  And according to Gamora you’re the only person whose ever survived any wound from Proxima’s spear.  You need to be taking it easy.”</p><p>“Are you going Quill?” Drax asked.</p><p>“Uh, yes,” Peter replied automatically.</p><p>“Then so am I,” Drax declared. </p><p>Tony shrugged.  “The suit should protect his wound,” he offered, earning a glare for his trouble.</p><p>Quill searched fruitlessly for an acceptably juicy argument.  “Fine,” he said when no fruit was forthcoming “but if you get yourself killed . . . I’ll never talk to you again.”</p><p>“Now that’s mean,” Drax replied, sounding hurt.</p><p>“Well, you can’t talk to the dead,” Tony pointed out.</p><p>“Of course you can,” Drax replied in bewilderment.  “I talk to my Ovett all of the time,” he added.  Tony cast a questioning glance at Quill.</p><p>“Just, don’t ask,” Quill replied with a shake of the head.</p><p>Tony nodded agreement.  “Get suited up,” he told the blue barbarian.  Drax nodded his thanks and followed the sisters.  Tony turned to head towards container one, only to run into Steve’s impish grin.  “And what, pray tell, are you waiting for?” Tony demanded.  Steve didn’t reply, instead pathing around him to the container his suit was stored in.  Tony shook his head ever so slightly before continuing on his way.</p><p>He didn’t get far before Deadpool appeared in his path.  “And what, I wonder, can I do for you, Wade,” Tony replied, allowing his impatience to show.</p><p>“I’d like to lodge a complaint with the outfitter,” Deadpool replied.  “Not one of these suits has swords.  And none are in my colors.”</p><p>“And I wasn’t aware I’d be arming Bad Santa, either,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Well how am I supposed to figure out which suit to use?” Deadpool complained.</p><p>Tony sighed, patience about expended.  “Just grab one,” he said as he resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose yet again.</p><p>“Roger Boss,” Wade replied with a jaunty salute.  He then proceeded to skip towards the containers like a kid going Christmas shopping with his mom.  Tony shook his head and resumed his way to container one again.  That container was his.  It had his suits, and his suits alone.  It also contained an entire design shop.  Containers eight and nine would open up to build whatever he designed there.</p><p>Tony stepped inside and simply stood, reveling in that moment’s peace.  Somehow this container had become his small slice of solitude on the ship.</p><p>The only other person with access to the container stood up from the desk in the back, but didn’t say anything.   Bruce knew a no talking moment when he saw one.  Although his silences had been far longer and more frequent than was even his wont.  In fact, the only time he’d spoken at all in the last three days had been when he was discussing Drax’s condition and treatment.</p><p>It was starting to bother Tony, which in turn made him cranky.  People weren’t really his strong suit.  He could tell Banner was dealing with something profound.  He just wasn’t sure what to do about it.  Should he talk to him about it?  Give him space to figure it out?  Prod him into releasing it?</p><p>Not one of those options seemed like the right thing to do, and the indecision was driving him nuts.  He knew he should speak to Steve about it, but he just could not find a way to broach the subject.  Besides, they still weren’t on the best of terms.  He wasn’t even sure how much of their friendship had survived this last year.</p><p>Finally, Tony sighed and stepped into his suit.  “You want me to go with you?” Banner asked hesitantly.  It was clear he didn’t want to go, and at the same time that he was a bit hurt that he hadn’t been asked.</p><p>And he didn’t need yet another psychoanalytical problem to juggle.  “I think you should sit this one out,” he replied finally, not quite meeting Banner’s gaze.  “Heimdall, the raccoon and his pet shrub are hanging back to pilot the ship, and I’m going to ask Vision to stay behind as well.  Besides,” he added with a light grin “I never made a suit for you.  You always were kind of a suit all by yourself.”  He regretted the statement almost immediately.   The last thing Banner needed was a reminder of what he’d lost. </p><p>The irony of the situation was not lost on Banner.  It was humorous in a macabre sort of way that he could miss this thing he’d always seen as a handicap, a curse, something to be avoided in general.  He’d always envisioned himself as doing back springs of joy if he could ever rid himself of the Hulk.  Now he just felt empty, weak . . . useless.</p><p>Banner did his best to hide his sudden discomfort with a carefree grin.  Even Tony could see through it, but he appreciated the effort.  He tossed a jaunty half salute to the diminutive scientist and exited the container before he could say anything even worse.</p><p>And landed right in another quandary.  “That’s not your suit,” he heard Clint bark.  Tony couldn’t hear the reply but he did recognize the replier’s voice.  Rolling his eyes, he headed to investigate, calming himself with visions of a bloated Deadpool floating by an airlock window.</p><p>“He said ‘grab any suit’,” Deadpool was saying as he rounded the corner of one of the containers.  And, sure enough, there was Deadpool trying to get into Warmachine.</p><p>“Really” Tony asked, allowing his temper to show “have we stooped to stealing from disabled vets?” Tony asked.</p><p>“What?” Deadpool asked confused.</p><p>“That’s Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes’s suit,” Clint replied.</p><p>“Well how was I to know that?” Deadpool replied defensively, pulling himself out of the suit.  “Besides, it’s the only one with a minigun on it,” he added, as if that made everything all right.</p><p>“Damn, Tony,” Rhodes said from behind.  They turned to see him hobbling towards them like an old man, which wasn’t bad considering he’d only had the use of his legs for a week.  “Would have been fun to watch Charlotte shock the shit out him,” he said with a grin as he passed them.</p><p>“That’ doesn’t seem to work with Deadpool,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Um, whose Charlotte?” Clint asked with a raised hand.</p><p>“Charlotte’s the AI Tony installed in my suit after my . . . accident,” Rhodes explained as he pulled himself.</p><p>Wade ignored them.  “Ooh, what about this one?” he asked, stepping over to a green and black suit.  “Not exactly my colors, but I could make do.”</p><p>“That’s my suit,” Clint replied quickly.  “Although,” he added “it’s just as likely to explode, all things considered.  So, go ahead.”</p><p>“No thanks, I’ve already tried that,” Wade replied before starting to rummage in the container.</p><p>“It’s not going to explode,” Stark assured him dryly.</p><p>“Sorry, I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that you built a suit for me at all,” Barton replied with a shrug.</p><p>“I designed it before this Winter Soldier unpleasantness,” Tony told Clint offhandedly.  Then to Deadpool “And when I said grab any suit, I meant any of the loaners in containers five and six.”</p><p>“Do any of them come with katanas?” Wade asked as he abandoned his search to head to the indicated container.</p><p>“Show me a katana that could handle a powered swing,” Tony said pointedly to Wade’s retreating back.</p><p>“What about regular weapons?” Gamora asked as the two sisters passed the sanity unfettered mercenary.  She was wearing a white and gold suit.  Nebula’s was pure black.</p><p>“What is it with you people from highly advanced technological cultures and archaic weapons?” Tony asked.</p><p>“So that’s a no?” Gamora asked.</p><p>“Guess we’ll just have to make our own,” Nebula stated stepping up to the opened container’s door and swinging it around to rest against the container’s side.  Before anyone could respond she activated the suit’s cutting laser drawing a crude, if effective, sword shape out of the six-inch-thick reinforced steel.</p><p>Tony opened his mouth to object before recognizing the futility of bothering.  He thought about pointing out that any weapon made from that steal wouldn’t last long, but he had a suspicion such ruminations would not be heeded.  They’d ignore him.  He’d get frustrated.  Just better to avoid the entire discussion.  But there was something about it that bothered him.</p><p>“How’d she find the laser cutter so quickly?” he asked himself.</p><p>“I connected to her cranial implant and uploaded her suit’s capabilities,” Friday admitted, sounding somewhat sheepish, a first for her.</p><p>Nebula finished her artwork by bending the steel around the handle away from it and jerking the sword shaped piece of slag free.  She handed it to Gamora and turned back on the door.  Tony couldn’t help but be curious as to what she’d make for herself.</p><p>But, instead of more arts and crafts time she simply swung the door to the ninety-degree point and lifted the entire thing out of its hinges.  She then grabbed the six-inch-thick pins.  One powered armor jerk and they snapped right off of the door, creating two massive kali sticks.  She swung them experimentally before nodding and moving into the ship. </p><p>Gamora had discovered the laser cutter on her suit and was currently using it to add something resembling an edge to her sword, using the already mangled door as a backplate.  Despite that effort, some of her cuts still damaged the deck plate underneath.  It occurred to Tony that this was probably what watching a group of goblins would be like.  That impression was only intensified when Deadpool returned, clad in an all red suit.</p><p>“Hey, how come she gets a sword,” the mercenary complained.  The words were barely out of his mouth before he noted the sword shaped hole in what was left of the door and put the two together.  “Ah, I didn’t realize it was a BYOW event,” he said as he contemplated the mangled wreck of a door.  The various cuts and bends already inflicted upon it made finding an appropriately sized contiguous space difficult.</p><p>“BYOW?” Tony asked, putting special emphasis on that last syllable.</p><p>“Build Your Own Weapons,” Deadpool replied as he stepped up to the remaining door.  He swiveled it to two hundred and seventy degrees off of closed.  “Alright, suit,” he said holding his right hand towards his canvas, palm out.  The suit, sensing his intent to use a weapon, fired a disruptor blast.  The door slammed into the container, making the entire chamber sound as if it were the inside of a kick drum, before rebounding back outwards.  Wade stepped casually out of the way as it swung back to the closed position.</p><p>“What the hell was that?” issued from the other side of the container.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” Deadpool said, stepping out.  “That was me.  You know these things really should come with a manual or something.”</p><p>“If there were a manual, would you read it?” Tony replied pointedly.</p><p>“True,” Wade replied nonchalantly as he moved the door back into place.  “Now, how to do this,” he said.  “Sometimes these things are linked to command words,” he reasoned.</p><p>“All you ha-” Tony started before Wade cut him off.</p><p>“Shu-shu-shu-shush,” he said holding one armored pointer finger up.  “I’ll get this.”  He then turned his attention back to the door.  “Forge On!” he intoned.  When that produced no effect, he let loose a barrage of possible activation phrases.  “It’s Smithing Time.  Go Go Gadget Weaponsmith.  By the Power of Forgeskull.  Blathering Blatherskite?”  Nothing.  He sighed as if defeated and mumbled “In brightest day, in darkest night-” before Tony cut him off.</p><p>“Just close your fist,” he declared.</p><p>Wade twisted to look at him in surprise.  “Like this?” he asked, showing Tony his fist.  A beam of light shot towards the ceiling before Wade reflexively opened his hand.  “Oh, ho-ho, that is awesome,” Wade said gleefully.</p><p>“Jesus your dangerous,” Stark complained.</p><p>“That’s what they tell me,” Deadpool replied proudly.  “And for the last time, my name’s Deadpool,” he added as he studied his armored fist.</p><p>Tony could see where this was headed.  “Do not try to write your name on anything,” he growled.</p><p>Deadpool sagged a little.  “Fine,” he muttered as he turned back to the door and proceeded to jigsaw himself a pair of katanas.  Or, what Tony assumed were supposed to be katanas, and that only based on the mercenary’s earlier request for same.  They looked more like oddly shaped machetes with elongated handles to him.</p><p>“Impressive,” Tony replied stepping up next to Deadpool.</p><p>Wade shrugged.  “Well, you know what they say; an artist is only as good as his tools.”  Tony’s glare was almost as penetrating as the laser had been.  Wade ignored it to bend forward and yank his handiwork from the door.  The outer half of the door came free as part of the action.  Wade tucked both “swords” under one arm and picked up the piece before casually strolling to the other side of the container.</p><p>He deposited the spent half of the door on what was left of Gamora’s handiwork and began fashioning himself an edge for each of the makeshift weapons.</p><p>“You realize any edge you put on that won’t last more than two or three hits, right?” Tony asked.</p><p>Wade looked up from his work.  “What’s your point?” he asked, somehow managing to convey an expression of confusion through his red mask.  Without waiting for a reply, he turned back to his swordsmanship.</p><p>Tony rolled his eyes and turned to gaze upon those assembled that weren’t completely outside of their minds. </p><p>Looking out at the uncoordinated mass of armor, it became painfully clear that few of them had actually adjusted to the suits.  Their gestures were continually getting magnified by the suits’ artificial muscles.  This often sent the gesturee off balance and stumbling into another armored individual, who would inevitably over correct and get launched in yet another direction.  It was like watching a rack of pool balls scatter after a rather flaccid break.</p><p>In fact, the only two that seemed to be completely at ease were Steve and Nebula.  They simply stepped out of the way, often catching the half-ton projectiles that were careening about them.  The only difference was the care with which they did so.  While Steve would gently right the wayward person with an understanding grin, Nebula would cast a glare of annoyance that could peel paint while she abruptly arrested their movement. </p><p>Tony cocked his head in confusion.  He’d had no trouble adapting to any of his suits.  And, as the least athletically inclined individual (at that time) of this group he’d simply assumed that twenty-four hours would be plenty of time for the group to adjust.  He opened his mouth to issue a sarcastic observation on that topic, but the words halted themselves at his uvula as Steve’s words of not ten minutes before intruded on his thoughts.</p><p>“It gets easier,” Tony said instead clearly at a loss for how to help them make that adjustment.  And he was torn between taking the time to get them acclimated and rushing everyone onto the smaller vessel.  They still had a couple of hours before Thanos could risk socketing another gem, yet it would be far easier to snatch before the Mad Titan could get his grubby massive mitts on it.</p><p>“You just need to remember that the suit magnifies your movements,” Tony called out.  It did not seem to help.  “Just, make light movements to get the feel for it.  No, not like that,” he added as Drax’s experimental twisting motion turned into a two-hundred-degree spin that bowled Gamora and Quill over.</p><p>“Uh, Tony?” Steve called with a raised hand.</p><p>“Christ Steve this isn’t grade school,” Tony snapped, adding a slight grin to cover the outburst.</p><p>“Right,” Steve replied sheepishly as he dropped his hand.  “What I was thinking is we need some ordered regimen, light calisthenics or something to help people get used to moving with the armor.”</p><p>“What did you have in mind; jumping jacks?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Let’s start smaller,” Steve said stepping forward.  Tony yielded the floor with a wave, stepping off to the side.  Steve turned, finally seeing the chaos from Tony’s perspective.  “Um, maybe help them spread out?” he asked.  Tony shrugged and moved to obey.</p><p>“Rhody help me out here,” he asked as he stepped up to help one.  The colonel moved to comply.  They began spreading the group out per Steve’s instructions.  As he helped his second suited figure Tony noted Nebula standing at the back of the formation, arms crossed over her chest.  “You know, you could help too,” he said pointedly.</p><p>“This is a waste of time,” she stated.</p><p>“I would really rather wait to get to the surface before we start breaking things,” Tony shot back.  She didn’t reply, but nor did she move.  Instead she settled on a compromise of watching Tony as if having just discovered an interesting new bug.</p><p>“Nebula!” Gamora snapped as Rhodes guided her to a new spot, breaking the blue shaded woman from her observations.  She cast a momentary glance at Gamora before rolling her eyes and moving to help.</p><p>Once that particular brand of herding was completed, Steve led the group through physical tasks of such simplicity that they would have been insulting under normal conditions.  He started with basic stretching and range of motion.  This led to some balancing issues as they learned to adjust to throwing so much extra weight around.  But, once that was complete, he moved on to squats, the first attempt of which led to three suited figures hopping up instead of simply straightening.  Then he had them stand on one foot.  Two suited figures fell over.</p><p>Eventually he got them up to jumping jacks, which made a hellacious clanging noise on the metal deck.  But, as Tony watched, he could see visible improvement.  They began jumping closer together, landing together, making the entire cavern sound like the inside of a massive gong together.</p><p>“Okay, okay, that’s quite enough of that,” Tony called as he stepped up to Steve again making a time out gesture with his hands.</p><p>They were a long way from being described as synchronized, but they weren’t knocking each other over either.  In fifteen minutes, their coordination had gone from baby’s first steps to first or second grade.  It would have to do.</p><p>“Friday, overlay a path to the airlock on the suits’ displays,” Tony ordered.  A second later a green ribbon shimmered into view on his own display leading out of the room, and eventually, to the top deck.  The first thing he’d done after unveiling the contents of his baggage had been to design and install an airlock and docking clamps for the smaller ship that’d formerly been simply lashed to the hull like a life raft on the Titanic.  Friday’d done most of the work, with the help of his construction bots, but it had still required a good amount of his attention over the past day.</p><p>In hindsight that attention would probably have been better spent on this little exercise.  Tony did his best to shake that thought off.  If all went well there’d be plenty of time to add that mistake to the list of failures he could dwell on. </p><p>“Activate their helmets,” he continued.  Everyone suit’s helmet snapped up, surrounding the wearer’s face.  An audible ripple of varying levels of consternation worked its way through the formation.</p><p>“Wait,” Scott complained stepping forward from where he’d been watching Steve’s impromptu calisthenics program.  Ironically, he was one of only five members of the assault group that hadn’t taken Tony up on his offer.  “Are you saying that you control all of the suits?  That’s just Stark stupid,” he added before Tony could respond.</p><p>“Only simple commands, and only while the suits’ firewalls are down,” Tony reassured him.</p><p>“And, out of curiosity, how does one activate the suit’s firewall?” Clint asked with a raised hand.</p><p>“Friday partition each suit and activate firewalls,” Tony commanded.  Each suit flashed a message to the user indicating its new security status.</p><p>“And we’re just supposed to trust that you can’t deactivate the firewalls the same way?” Clint persisted.</p><p>“What would be the point of that?” Tony asked.  There was no answer.  He stepped forward to stand visor to visor with Clint.  “If you can’t trust me even that far then perhaps you should just get out of the suit and go cry yourself to sleep in your stateroom,” he said.  “Otherwise you’re just wasting everyone’s time.”  It was perhaps not how Cap would have handled it, but he was tired of constantly having his actions questioned by a man whose own choices were suspect at best.</p><p>Hawkeye seethed as he took one menacing step towards Tony.  How dare some tech wiz tell him to soldier up?  He longed to throw those words back into the smarmy jackass’s face, to show him what he thought of his cool toys.  He knew he shouldn’t.  He knew he’d need it if the information Tony had brought back was even half true.  But that urge was almost overpowering.</p><p>Before that urge could gain control, Deadpool spoke up.  “Ooh, I’ve got dibs on his suit if he’s not using it,” The merc with a mouth called out, raising his hand for attention.  “What?” he asked as all visors turned to him.  “It shoots arrows out of its sleeves,” he said gesturing to the suit in question’s forearms.</p><p>For some reason that five second delay was enough to snap the tension that had been building between the two.  Clint shook his helmeted head and took a step back.  He wasn’t sure why but the urge to get into a pissing contest had evaporated.  Perhaps it was because, deep down, he knew Tony wouldn’t betray them.  Perhaps it was because he knew they needed everyone at their peak abilities.  But most likely it was because he didn’t want Deadpool stinking up his suit.</p><p>“Now, as I was about to say,” Tony called out “if you’ll follow the path on your heads up displays you will arrive at our shiny new docking port on the upper level.”  He then demonstrated by following the path out of the room himself.  The rest trooped out behind him.</p><p>Tony rounded the final bend to find Parker waiting for him in front of the airlock.  Tony glanced at the opened control panel.  “Couldn’t get in,” he observed with a noted lack of rancor.</p><p>“You need me Mr. Stark,” Peter replied, ignoring the comment.</p><p>“I need you to stay here,” Tony replied.  “That’s why that panel is just a dummy,” he added.  Peter glanced back at the controls he’d been attempting to unsuccessfully override.  “Friday open the airlock,” he added.  The airlock door hissed slightly and rolled aside.  A metal ladder lowered down, causing Peter to jump out of the way.</p><p>Tony caught Peter glaring at him and shrugged.  “Hey, if I hadn’t distracted you with the panel, you’d have found a way to bypass my security,” he said good naturedly.</p><p>“You knew I’d try?” Peter asked.</p><p>“I knew you’d succeed if I gave you a chance,” Tony corrected.  “I’ve learned not to underestimate you when it comes to these things.”</p><p>“You’re underestimating me right now!” Peter complained.  “I can do this, Mr. Stark” he pleaded just as shrilly.</p><p>“Kid you’ve got promise,” Steve said stepping up besides Tony “but you’re not ready for this.  Tony’s just trying to look out for you.  Listen to him.”</p><p>“But-” Peter said.  It was as far as he got before Tony jumped back into the conversation</p><p>“Peter, the only reason you’re here is because the alternative was a six by eight cell,” Tony countered.  “That does not include hazard duty.  Besides, they might just need you here,” Tony added, attempting to appeal to the kid’s sense of responsibility.</p><p>Peter wasn’t fooled.  “I’m not a pilot Mr. Stark,” he replied.</p><p>Stark tried forthrightness.  “You are many things Peter,” he said “but a red shirt on this landing party is not one of them.”</p><p>“But Mr. Stark,” Peter objected.</p><p>“Ah!” Tony cut him off with a waved finger.  “We don’t have time for this.  Stay here and make yourself useful.  That’s an order.  Or I’ll have Karen black your vision and disable your web shooters.”</p><p>For a moment it appeared that Peter was going to argue further, despite Tony’s threats, but at the last moment his shoulders sagged.  “Fine, I’ll just practice twiddling my thumbs,” he said before stomping through the crowd of armor.</p><p>“I’m kind of surprised he gave in that easily,” Steve commented.</p><p>“Me too,” Tony agreed as he watched the retreating back.</p><p>The other Peter stepped through the crowd.  “If you two are done backslapping yourselves for ganging up on a kid, we really do need to go,” Quill said as he pushed past them.  He ignored the handholds, instead thrusting up the ladder.  Tony and Steve stepped out of the wash, both glaring a dirty look after the rogue.</p><p>“He’s right,” Steve said as the other’s began to form a single file line.  Fortunately, none of them attempted to emulate the space rogue, contenting themselves to simply climb the railing.  Then again, they hadn’t actually had time to go over the use of the suit’s thrusters.  “You coming Tony?” he asked as he stepped up to the ladder.</p><p>“In a second,” Tony replied without taking his eyes off of the approaching ranks.  “I just want to make sure Peter actually stays put.  He’s proven that his stubbornness shows no bounds,” he added.</p><p>Steve grinned. “What is it they say about parents being cursed with children just like them?” he asked pointedly.  Tony cast a quick glare at him before returning to his surveillance.</p><p>“I am not the kid’s father,” he said.</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “Well, there are parents, and then there are parents,” he said before heading up.</p><p>Whatever Tony was about to say was cut off at the ankles as Vision passed through the deck plates directly in front of him.  “I know what you’re going to say,” Tony said before the maroon man could speak “but it’s too dangerous.”</p><p>Vision appeared nonplussed.  “You’re reports indicated a being of phenomenal power,” he stated.  “Yet by my count you’ve chosen to leave no less than five members of your team behind.  I have concerns.”</p><p>“We don’t know where the fifth stone is,” Tony pointed out.  “Thanos may already have it on his ship.  We can’t risk him getting his hands on the mind stone too.”</p><p>Meanwhile Peter was having his own argument.</p><p>“Mr. Stark said to remain on the Statesman,” Karen stated firmly.</p><p>“I know,” Peter replied “but I can’t help but get the feeling that they’ll need us.”</p><p>“Oh, well if you have a feeling lets go,” Karen replied sarcastically.  She hadn’t been so quick with a quip when Peter had first activated her, but of late she’d taken to that mode of communication with a vengeance.  Peter was still trying to figure out exactly where she’d learned it from.</p><p>“What if Mr. Stark dies?” Peter asked.  “How would you feel if we could have done something, but we were up here floating all safe and sound?”</p><p>She hesitated, albeit minutely.  “Human beings die,” the AI stated philosophically.  “There is nothing any of us can do about that.  In my observations the best they can hope for is to make it count for something.”</p><p>“I really don’t think Mr. Stark would agree that being slaughtered in vain was counting for something,” Peter replied.</p><p>“What makes you so sure he would die?” Karen asked pointedly.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Peter replied in frustration.  “I just . . . I’ve got this-”</p><p>“Feeling, yes you said as much,” Karen replied, cutting him off.  “Peter I’ve come to know you,” she continued.  “I think it far more likely that you are simply chaffing at being left behind like a kid brother than that you alone might make the difference.”</p><p>Peter sighed.  He couldn’t deny her interpretation, even though he knew it to be faulty.  The only reason the two of them were here at all was because he just didn’t want to be left out.  And Karen had only gone along with it because Mr. Stark had not directly told her to stop him.  But it was different this time.  This feeling, it was more . . . frantic.</p><p>“It’s like they’ve put all their eggs in one basket,” Peter said suddenly, taking one last stab at the conversation.</p><p>Karen was silent.  “In what way?” she asked finally.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he groaned softly.  “It’s just how I feel.  Maybe it’s because of the suits.”</p><p>“The suits are not a handicap,” she replied.  “They enhance the wearer’s natural abilities.”</p><p>“I know,” Peter replied “but something just feels off.  I can’t explain it.  It just does.” </p><p>Karen sighed in his ears.  Technically she didn’t need to do so, being that she didn’t actually breathe, but it was another affectation of speech she’d picked up; a way of expressing concern and uncertainty all at once.  She found it efficient.</p><p>Not that hit actually changed anything.  She could feel Peter’s concern.  She knew it to be genuine.  She’d accused him of simply not wanting to be left out, in part because she wanted to read his emotional state.  But he hadn’t shown any signs of embarrassment or shame.  She knew there was something else going on here.  And she’d come to realize that human intuition was a powerful tool she did not rightly understand.</p><p>“Alright, I’ll go along with this,” she said finally.  “But,” she added forcefully “we will hang back unless this feeling of yours manifests itself.  If you even think about engaging the enemy without my permission, I will disable all suit functions and inform Mr. Stark of our location.”</p><p>“Agreed,” Peter replied thankfully, already surveying his options for an undetected entry.  Unfortunately, there weren’t a lot of them.  He glanced back the way he’d come.   Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers had already exited up the ladder, so at least he didn’t have that to worry about.  Maybe he could just sneak up last.  He turned back the other way.  His eyes sat on War Machine as he stomped up the rear of the formation.  His suit was the largest of them all, making it hard to miss.  It also made it uniquely suited to the plan already being concocted in   </p><p>“Tough luck kid,” Colonel Rhodes said as he approached.  Peter had always liked him.  He didn’t treat him so much like a kid as just a newbie, even if he insisted on calling him as such.  “Keep your chin up alright?” he added as he passed by.</p><p>“Yes sir,” Peter replied automatically.  There was something about Colonel Rhodes that reminded him of his uncle.  The ‘sir’ just came naturally.</p><p>Rhody did his best to put the kid out of his mind as he approached the ladder.  He wasn’t entirely sure Tony was making the right call with him, but he also knew that if anything happened to the kid his friend would be the one that suffered the guilt.  And Tony’s conscience already had more than enough ammunition to use on him.</p><p>“There is a foreign contaminant on the rear of the suit,” Charlotte informed him, breaking him out of his ruminations.  “Should I initiate defensive measures?”</p><p>“Just leave it,” Rhody replied.  He knew exactly ‘what’ was attached to the back of his suit.  He might not have been willing to confront Tony about his call, but neither could he bring himself to squash the kid.  He had too much respect for both.</p><p>The ladder opened onto an oval shaped metal enclosure hastily erected between the upper hull of the Statesman and the lower hull of the Vengeance.  It was barely large enough to accommodate the extended stairwell that lowered out of the smaller vessel’s hull.</p><p>Peter waited until Rhodes made it to the top of the stairs before abandoning his mule.  He leapt for the shadowy area past the cavity formed by the lowered ramp and did his best to disappear.</p><p>“Too easy,” he muttered congratulating himself.</p><p>“You don’t really think we’re that stupid, do you?” Steve’s voice asked from further in the narrow recess.  Peter flipped around at the sound.  Rogers stepped forward into the light.  “I know how you feel, but Tony’s only trying to keep you safe,” he said, sounding slightly disappointed.</p><p>“That’s not really in the job description is it?” Peter asked pointedly.</p><p>“The idea is to take manageable risks,” Steve told him.  He started to say something else but stopped as Tony’s voice came over his headset.</p><p>“Everyone in yet?” The technologist asked impatiently.  Steve’s hand reached to the side of his helmet to activate his comms.</p><p>“Please,” Peter begged.  “I don’t know how I know it, but something bad is going to happen.  I have to go.”  Steve’s arm paused mid motion, as if that operation had been put to sleep while he focused all his processing power on determining the veracity of that cryptic statement.  “You don’t know what it’s like,” Peter continued desperately “to be able to do something, to know you can do it, and have no one believe in you.”</p><p>Steve’s expression turned bitter sweet as that statement reminded him of his last months as a weakling.  He wasn’t certain, but he may have used those exact words as he pled futilely with one of the doctors to fudge his physical.  “Oh, I know,” he assured Peter before finishing his motion.  “All buttoned up here Tony,” he said.</p><p>“Any sign of the kid?”</p><p>Steve hesitated for a moment.  He hated lying even when he recognized the need.  “None,” he said finally.  “He’s probably pouting in his room.”</p><p>“Good,” Tony replied sounding less than satisfied.  “Now get that ramp up.  We’re on the clock.”</p><p>“Roger,” Rogers said before hitting the button again.  He motioned to Bucky to hit the controls.   A moment later the ramp began to raise into the hull of the ship.</p><p>“Thank you, Mr. Rogers,” Peter said.</p><p>Steve leveled his gaze at Peter.  “I wouldn’t be who I am today if two great people hadn’t believed in me even when the world didn’t,” he told him.  “I think they would have believed in you too,” he added before stepping around the kid and heading towards the interior of the ship.  Bucky paused long enough to cast a look tinged more with sadness than anything else at the kid before following.</p><p>They headed up through the crowded day room towards the bridge.  The sisters were both brooding against opposite walls.  Natasha, Scott, and Wanda had occupied the table in the center.  Past that Wade had parked himself flanking the stairs to the cockpit.</p><p>They all looked over as they entered before returning to their broodings already in progress.  “You might not want to go up there,” Natasha called out as they made their way around the crowded table.</p><p>“Something wrong?” Cap asked without halting.</p><p>“Depends on your feelings towards sardines,” Wade replied cryptically.  Steve and Bucky glanced at each other as if to ask if the other had gotten the maniac merc’s meaning before heading up.</p><p>As they ascended the steps that meaning became apparent.  Quill was in the pilot’s seat with Tony riding co.  That much was pretty much expected.  What wasn’t expected was the number of other people taking up the cockpit’s limited space.  T’Challa, Thor, and Drax occupied the other seats, which left Brunnhilde, Clint, and Rhodes standing in the aisle.  The former of that trio seemed to be trying to stay out of the way, but the latter two appeared to be attempting to obtain the same view over Quill’s left shoulder.  It wouldn’t have been so bad without the suits taking up so much more space</p><p>“Make the jump,” they heard Quill call.  The view out the cabin windows altered from an unknown star scape to a swirl of blue and purple coloring as the ship entered hyperspace.  The effect lasted only a moment before switching to a star scape nearly blotted out by a planet to the right.  “Detach the docking mounts,” Quill ordered.</p><p>“Right,” Tony replied. There was a series of slight popping sounds that echoed through the hull as Tony’s jury-rigged docking clamps separated themselves from the ship. “Done” he confirmed a moment later.</p><p>Quill didn’t reply, instead wrenching the controls over to thrust the ship quickly away.  “Rocket, we’re clear,” he called a moment later before angling towards the night side of the planet and throttling the main engine power to full.  Even with the inertial dampers on the ship they were pressed into their seats.  Those not fortunate enough to have a seat were forced to flail wildly for a handhold.  In the case of those wearing suits this tended to create handholds.</p><p>“You guys mind taking it easy on the pressure vessel?” Quill asked, glancing meaningfully at the partially crumpled section of the overhead console where Rhodes and Clint had stabilized themselves.</p><p>“You could have warned us,” Clint replied defensively.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I forgot that I told you to stand in the aisle,” Quill shot back, clearly annoyed at the cramped quarters.</p><p>“Well it’s not like there are enough chairs,” Rhodes pointed out.</p><p>“This isn’t a cruise liner,” Quill replied as he set them on a steep angle towards the planet.  “Chop coming up,” he added before either of the other two could respond.  They’d barely stabilized themselves before the ship hit the first vestiges of the atmosphere wrapping around Xandar.  It wasn’t much, but it doesn’t take much to rock the boat when said boat was moving at their velocity.</p><p>Tony ignored the byplay in favor of checking the readouts.  Most everything looked fine.  It appeared that the enemy was still oblivious to their presence.  Quill certainly seemed to know what he was doing as far as entry into an atmosphere was concerned.  All systems were green.  In fact, there was but one worrisome item.</p><p>“Something’s-” he started in an attempt to vocalize his concern, but was cut off.</p><p>“Do you have to hover right over my shoulder?” Quill suddenly demanded, shifting his gaze from his instruments to glare at Clint. </p><p>“I’m just trying to see how this baby flies,” Clint replied placatingly.</p><p>“And this requires you to put your head on my shoulder?” Quill asked, only slightly exaggerating.</p><p>“I was just trying to see if you were using your feet to fly,” Clint replied.</p><p>“I was wondering that too,” Rhodes put in.</p><p>“Why the hell would I use my feet to fly?” Quill demanded just as they slammed through a dense pocket of turbulence.</p><p>“How else are you going to control the rudder?” Rhodes asked.</p><p>“It’s not a sailboat,” Quill replied incredulously.</p><p>“Aircraft use them for stabilization,” Clint supplied.</p><p>“I think yaw is controlled via rotational input of the stick,” Rhodes observed</p><p>“Jesus!” Quill exclaimed as he leveled the ship out at roughly a hundred meters.  “It’s not an airplane either.  It’s a space ship.  Why don’t you guys stick to your flying sailboats and let a real pilot handle the flying,” he added in about as condescending a tone as Rocket could have managed.</p><p>“I’ve never met an aircraft I couldn’t fly,” Clint said matching his level of self-assurance with Quill’s condescension.  Quill’s jaw jutted out in frustration as they once again referred to a spacecraft as a flying machine.  He didn’t say it, coming to the private conclusion that these two had some sort of learning disability.  He simply stewed.</p><p>“Alright,” Cap spoke up from the back “we’ve got just over an hour’s flight time to get to the other side of the planet, and I’d rather not have the pilot plow us into a mountainside because people keep getting in his way.”</p><p>“What kind of pilot can’t avoid a mountain?” Rhodes asked?</p><p>“I know right?” Clint agreed.</p><p>“How about one going ten times faster than you’ve ever flown?” Tony asked from the copilot’s seat.</p><p>Both pilot’s eyes shot up.  “Seriously?” Clint asked.</p><p>“Alright, out,” Cap commanded, immune to their awe.  Such things get old after you’ve spent years marveling at the advancements Earth had made in your seventy-year absence.</p><p>“Alright, alright,” they said finally turning to come aft.</p><p>“Well,” Thor said getting up “I already know how to fly so one of you can have my seat.”</p><p>Cap frowned at that revelation.  “You know how to fly this contraption?” he asked.</p><p>“Yes of course,” Thor replied as he slid past towards the stairs.  “All interstellar craft flight controls are standardized.”</p><p>Rhodes and Clint looked at each other.  “Match you for it,” Clint suggested.</p><p>Rhodes looked as if he were about to agree, but one look from Cap changed his mind.  “Let’s just take turns,” he suggested instead.  “Unless you don’t think you can get a handle for it in a half hour.”</p><p>“Okay, but who goes first?” Clint asked.</p><p>“You wouldn’t really cut in front of a disabled vet, would you?” Rhodes asked with a grin.</p><p>“Particularly not one with a minigun on his back,” Clint replied with an answering grin before following Thor aft.</p><p>A moment later T’Challa stood as well.  “I believe it would be advantageous if the group leaders inhabited the cockpit,” he announced.  “Captain,” he added with a half nod of respect as he passed by.</p><p>“King,” Steve acknowledged with a small dip of his own before turning to look at Bucky as if to ask if he wanted to match for the seat.</p><p>“You know, I think I’ll head down too,” Bucky said.  “Let you guys bond,” he added with a slightly mischievous grin.  Steve shook his head to try and hide his answering grin, then turned to the now vacant chair.</p><p>There was precisely three seconds of silence before Tony turned to address the cabin.  Rhodes and Cap gave him a quizzical glance.  Quill didn’t for want of driving, and Drax was asleep.  “Now that we’ve gotten the seating arrangements handled would anyone like to posit a theory as to why the Statesman is still in orbit?” he asked.</p><p>His revelation wrought a series of expressions running the gamut from confusion to concern.  Everyone knew the plan had been for them to stay in orbit barely long enough to drop the smaller ship.  Then they were to high tail it out of the enemy’s reach.  The fact that they were still there was a glaring indicator that something had already gone wrong with the plan.</p><p>Quill was the first to respond.  “What?” he asked sparing a half second glance at the sensor display.  That was all it took to verify that the Statesman was indeed still there at the edge of their screen.  In another minute the planet would rise enough behind them to block line of sight, but it was still there.</p><p>He wrenched his gaze from the display just in time to corkscrew the ship away from an oncoming building.  Thudding sounds from below suggested that some of this cruise’s passengers weren’t quite happy with that maneuver.  The shouting that followed confirmed that inference.  Drax remained asleep.</p><p>“Let’s keep our eyes forward please,” Tony said calmly.  Quill clenched his jaw but otherwise didn’t respond.</p><p>“Could they be having engine trouble?” Rhodes asked ignoring the episode entirely.  Perhaps it was a fighter jock thing.</p><p>“All systems checked out a couple days ago,” Tony replied.  “As to the likelihood of some sort of catastrophic equipment malfunction, you’d have to ask Astroboy here.”</p><p>Quill thought about it as he maneuvered the ship between two large mountains, then shrugged.  “It’s possible, but as a rule the sovereigns of planets tend to hire competent people to maintain their space ships.”</p><p>“Could there be some sort of special anomaly that would interfere with a hyperdrive?” Tony asked.</p><p>Quill squinted.  “Like what?” he asked.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Tony hedged “solar flares, sun spots, unusually high background radiation from the annihilation of a fleet of starships?”</p><p> “Yeah if the hyperdrive in question were five hundred years old,” he replied irritably. </p><p>“I assume from your tone that you’ve got a better explanation?” Tony prompted sardonically.</p><p>“Well . . . no,” Quill replied just a touch sheepishly.</p><p>“It’s safe to say they aren’t rubbernecking,” Tony continued pointedly.</p><p>“Can we hail them or something?” Cap asked.</p><p>“Why would showering them with pieces of ice help?”  Drax asked.  “They are in a starship.”  Clearly, he thought the action was meant to be a motivation.  Perhaps on his home world it was how they got the slackers moving.</p><p>“No, it means to open communications,” Cap replied.</p><p>“Then why not say ‘open communications’?” Quill asked testily.</p><p>“I don’t know, its shorter?” Cap replied.</p><p>“Catching up on Star Trek I see,” Tony commented.  “You shouldn’t have skipped past the Apollo program.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cap asked.</p><p>“Vehicles moving past a certain speed generate a plasma sheath that blocks radio,” Rhodes supplied.  “I’m honestly not sure why we aren’t generating one as fast as we’re going,” he added, peering out the window as if expecting one to burst into view simply because he’d invoked its name.  Quill chuckled and shook his head disbelievingly.</p><p>“Something to add?” Tony asked.</p><p>“I’ve just never flown with cavemen before,” he replied snidely.</p><p>“It’s not smart to insult cavemen,” Tony replied tensely before anyone else could protest.</p><p>Quill shrugged.  “It’s not my fault you guys insist on acting like this is one of your flying boats.”</p><p>“Meaning?” Rhodes asked.</p><p>“Spaceships have an electromagnetic meteorite shield to protect them from fast moving rocks.  In an atmosphere the field is manipulated to create pointed ram well forward of the ship.”</p><p>“Deflector screens?” Cap asked, excited that he was able to interpret that explanation.</p><p>Tony rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, deflector screens,” he confirmed.  “So, does that mean we could communicate with the Statesman?”</p><p>“As long as we do it before we lose line of sight with the ship,” Quill replied.  “Sorry,” he added a moment later “Line of sight means-”</p><p>Now it was Rhodes’s turn to get tense.  “We know about LOS,” he informed the rogue.</p><p>“Well gee, and all this time I thought you guys really were cavemen,” Quill replied sarcastically as Tony attempted to locate the communications controls.  “You must be up to mud huts.”  Quill glanced over at Tony.  “That one,” he said, pointing to a specific panel.</p><p>“Eye’s forward please,” Tony reminded him as he began fiddling with the pane.  Quill snapped back to paying attention to the passage of the topographic treadmill in front of them.</p><p>“No, that one first,” Drax said pointing to a button on the upper right of the panel.  “Then you have to select a frequency.”  Everyone but Quill stared at the blue meathead.</p><p>“What?  I can make calls,” he said defensively.</p><p>“Yeah, I remember,” Quill replied as he continued to track ahead.  “Vividly,” he added a moment later.  There was just a touch of bitterness in his voice.  Those not in on the joke gained a rather quizzical countenance, but decided to let it pass.  There were more pressing concerns.</p><p>“I’ve got it,” Tony said before pressing the only button left.</p><p>“Make it quick,” Quill said pointed.  “We’ve only got a small angle left.”</p><p>Not seeing a mic, Tony opted to simply address the cabin.  “Statesman come in,” he said.  All they got was static.  “Statesman do you read?” he asked again.</p><p>“Rocket pick up,” Peter called out, earning yet another eyeroll from Tony.  Like the only reason the talking rodent wasn’t talking was because it was afraid of new people.</p><p>“Friday are we transmitting?” Tony asked.</p><p>“As near as I can tell the transmitter is working,” she replied.</p><p>“As near as you can tell?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Well, I am used to caveman technology,” she replied smugly.</p><p> “It did take you a while to figure the controls out,” Peter pointed out.  “Maybe the angle was too narrow to get the signal out.”  Despite the comforting nature of his words it was clear he was worried.</p><p>“So, what do we do?” Cap asked.</p><p>“You want to go back?” Peter asked.</p><p>“Sure,” Tony replied sarcastically “and maybe we stop for a bite on the way, or catch a show.”</p><p>“So, we just leave them?” Steve persisted.</p><p>“It’s probably just a malfunction,” Quill insisted.  “As long as they keep the planet between them and the Sanctuary 2 Thanos will never know they’re there,” he said in a tone of voice that suggested he wasn’t nearly as sure as he pretended.  Perhaps he hoped that by convincing them that nothing was wrong he’d be able to convince himself.  Either way there was nothing they could do at the moment. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Sacrifices</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Statesman Bridge</p><p>55 Minutes Earlier</p><p> </p><p>Rocket watched the Vengeance depart with mixed feelings.  To say he wanted to join that particular suicide mission was something of an exaggeration.  But almost all of his friends were there.  He couldn’t help wondering just how many of them he’d never see again.</p><p>He shook his head to clear those dismal thoughts.  “Alright Groot, let’s get this tub out of here,” he stated, punching in commands to reenter hyperspace on the board.  “How the hell did I let Quill convince me to stay here?” he muttered to himself.</p><p>“I am Groot,” the mono-response plant replied.</p><p>“It was a rhetorical question,” Rocket snapped as his right hand reached out for the engage button.  It never made it.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Heimdall’s eyes opened in shock, revealing the day room of the Statesman.  He’d been keeping an eye on Xandar Prime’s vaults since Thor had summarily ordered him to remain aboard.  Everything had seemed to be going according to plan.  Thanos and his many minions seemed completely unaware of their presence, or plans. </p><p>But just after they’d ended their hyperspace hop to the other side of the planet, the Mad Titan had cocked his head, as though listening to something unheard.  Then he’d looked towards the sky, a grin that would have made a shark uncomfortable spreading across his face.  A moment later he was giving his underlings (including his generals) orders to remain and slow the enemy.  Then the blue gem in his gauntlet glowed and he’d disappeared in a flash of blue light.</p><p>Heimdall scanned frantically, trying relocate Thanos’s whereabouts.  His eyes stopped on the bridge of their ship and he exhaled in horror.</p><p>“What is it?” Banner asked from his spot across the titanic Asgardian.</p><p>“We’ve made a terrible mistake,” Heimdall stated, grabbing his sword from where it lay on the table and unsheathing it as he stood.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Banner asked worriedly, getting up to follow him.</p><p>“We should never have split up,” Heimdall explained rather cryptically as he marched out of the room, face set in stone.  He knew the odds of his beating Thanos were next to nonexistent.   He knew that even if everyone on the ship fought splendidly, as if they were all members of a legion that had trained and fought together for centuries, they would all probably die.  But he had to try.</p><p>“Because . . .” Banner prompted from behind.</p><p>Heimdall stopped and turned to view the diminutive scientist.  At least that was how he saw him; it was all relative.  “You should be prepared to greet your fathers,” he said finally before turning to head to the bridge.</p><p>“Oh,” Bruce replied as if suddenly feeling sick.  He was very good at putting things together; it was how he’d become a top-flight scientist.  And, barring some miracle, he knew exactly who Heimdall was planning to use that massive sword of his on.</p><p>He paused in his pursuit of the Asgardian as the thought of engaging in another battle hammered its way into his psyche.  He looked at the hall leading to the bridge.  He didn’t want to go in there.  He wasn’t ready for another confrontation. </p><p> Normally he’d have been more concerned with breaking the ship that was currently protecting them from the vacuum of space than with his own mortality.  But the Hulk hadn’t been very effective in the past two confrontations, and he wasn’t sure this one would go any better.  He wasn’t even sure if the Hulk would come out to play. </p><p>That train of thought ended as Heimdall became obscured by one of Tony’s containers.  One of Tony’s cargo containers filled with powered armor suits.</p><p>It was a bad idea.  He knew it was a bad idea.  But it was the only idea he had.  Now he just needed to find Vision and get him to unlock one of the containers.  Warning him that intruders were on board would probably be a good idea as well.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Rocket’s attempt to engage the hyperdrive was interrupted by a flash of blue light emitting from behind him.  Curiosity demanded he ascertain the cause.  But what started as a casual glance backward ended in frozen in fear.  His fur stood on its end of its own accord.  For one priceless moment his mind went blank as it tried to grapple with the deathly implications of that presence. </p><p>Fortunately, his was not a mind that could stay blank.  Rocket ripped his attention from the entity filling the hatch to the bridge and turned back to the console.  If he could simply get the ship into hyperspace, he could at least give the team on the ground a chance to retrieve the power stone.  He might even be able to fly the ship into a star.</p><p>It was a plan conceived of in a flash of desperation.  It was also as brave as it was foolish; he was banking everything on the idea that Thanos would not be able to use the Tesseract to abandon ship if it was in hyperspace.</p><p>It was also a plan that turned out to be academic.  As he made again for the button, he found that he couldn’t move his arm any closer no matter how frantically he tried.</p><p>“Leaving so soon?” a deep voice boomed sadistically from behind him.  Until that moment he’d been unaware that a voice could be sadistic.  “Stay a while,” it commanded.</p><p>Rocket snarled.  Despite never having met the unmitigated bastard he knew exactly who that voice belonged to.  He tried once more to engage the drive, but this time his left hand dipped to his waste to grasp the handle of his gun as surreptitiously as possible.</p><p>Sadly, he’d never put many skill points into sleight of hand.  “A more sensible plan would be to give me the mind stone now,” Thanos cautioned him.  “I might even keep you alive as a pet,” he gloated.</p><p>Rocket’s shoulder’s slumped momentarily as if defeated, attempting to catch the monster off guard.  Then he spun around, leveling his already expanding weapon on the galactic mangler.  “AHHHHHHHHH,” he yelled as he fired a stream of plasma bullets the size of tennis balls at the gold clad monster.</p><p>Thanos, completely <em>not</em> caught off guard, calmly reached out as if using the massive open palm of the gauntlet as a shield.  Each bullet evaporated into nothing as they reached it, as if all the energy within were being sucked out.</p><p>Rocket continued firing, more for want of anything more productive to do than any expectation that his bolts would suddenly become effective.  After the first dozen shots Thanos closed his hand.  Rocket became aware of the fact that the gun was no longer firing.  A quick inspection revealed the cause; the emitter was busily crumpling in upon itself. </p><p>Rocket released the gun, which continued to float in front of him mockingly, as it continued its controlled implosion.  It sparked and popped as the energy core and capacitor were added to the list of victims of the crush.  Once his former weapon had reached the size of a grapefruit the Mad Titan opened his hand again, sending the ball of trash hurtling into Rocket’s chest.  The anthropomorphized racoon grunted as the impact launched him into the far bulkhead.</p><p>“I AM GROOT!” Groot yelled in rage as he attacked.  He started with stabs at the much larger opponent, but Thanos seemed perfectly capable of catching and crushing the darting tendrils. </p><p>“No Groot you idiot!” Rocket yelled from where he’d fallen.  Thanos grinned wickedly, taking a moment to savor Rocket’s fears before unleashing a purple bolt of energy at Groot. </p><p>That half moment of arrogance saved Groot.  The intended recipient ducked under the deadly ball of energy, wrapped his arms around Thanos’s legs, and sent tendrils out to the wall and the console to brace himself.  Then he gave a mighty jerk.  The titan’s armored legs came up as his head went down.  He landed flat on his back with a mighty crash.</p><p>Thanos had barely completed his less than graceful landing before Groot was on him, attempting to force his rooty tendrils through the armor and even into his target’s nose and eyes.  Thanos bellowed, grabbing the tree monster and pulling him off his face.  He rolled to slam Groot into the deck.  Groot tried to arrest his motion by latching onto any stationary object, but any root he used was simply snapped off, his effort amounting to a softening of the coming blow.</p><p>Groot hit the deck with a crunch before Thanos launched him across the room.  The teenage tree slammed against the opposite bulkhead and slid motionlessly down its height.  Whether due the slam or the impact Groot now had a crack in his head reaching from his crown down to his eyes.  It appeared to go all the way through.</p><p>Thanos started to get up, but turned the motion into a dodge roll through the navigation console, just as Heimdall’s blade came slashing down towards his neck from the doorway. </p><p>The console crumpled as if made of popsicle sticks, leaving sparking connections at the edges of the chasm he’d made.  Thanos rolled to his feet and turned a glare on Heimdall.  For his part the Asgardian simply recovered from the near killing blow and met the glare with a passive calm.</p><p>It pissed Thanos off to no end.  “I have long wanted your eyes,” Thanos ground sinisterly.</p><p>“Then take them,” Heimdall replied evenly before lending his sight to the monster.  It was the last thing Thanos had expected.  The very act was a shock, but not nearly as much as the vast amounts of information he was suddenly flooded with.  The need to process all of it was staggering.</p><p>And in that one moment Heimdall struck with a speed that seemed to bely the massive nature of his sword.  It swung in a flat arc, again aiming for the Titan’s massive neck.</p><p>But, at the last moment, Thanos’s mind locked into the room and he lunged backward.  Instead of the decapitation Heimdall had planned the sword’s tip left a gash along the left side of the Titan’s neck.</p><p>Which was still far too deep as far as Thanos was concerned.  His gauntleted hand reached up to touch the wound, drawing a smear of blue blood.  He held the gauntlet higher, staring at that smear in disbelief.  Not one but Odin had drawn his blood in countless centuries, and then only on Asgardian soil.</p><p>He flew into a rage, throwing himself at the Asgardian with such ferocity that Heimdall was forced to give ground.  The Asgardian attempted to reciprocate, but Thanos blocked the sword strikes with the gauntleted palms of his hands and retaliated in single motions.  He could have used his telekinetic abilities to hold the focus of his rage.  He could have used the Power Stone to disintegrate the interfering bastard.  He could have teleported him into space with the Tesseract, or contrived a cage to hold him with the Aether and fed the Spirit Stone his soul. </p><p>But none of those options even entered his mind.  Perhaps that was due to the freshness of those new powers.  Or it could have been the rage that held him at having such a nobody actually damage him.  Most likely it was a combination of two, but whatever the reason, it saved Heimdall from immediate extermination.</p><p>As they danced around the room trading blows Heimdall continuously granted and withdrew his vision.  It didn’t have the same effect as that first time, but it helped.  Thanos missed several openings in his frantic defense, and even provided a few of his own.  Sadly, most of those were still protected by his armor, but Heimdall’s sword was able to find two gaps.</p><p>After the second strike Thanos bellowed and delivered a flat palmed punch to Heimdall’s chest that not only sent the Asgardian flying through the air, but actually imbedded him in the wall at the end of his trajectory.  He glared at the wounded knight as Heimdall struggled to free himself from the wall, and began to calm.  His thoughts turned towards the most cathartic ways to dispatch this momentary disturbance with an unhallowed anticipation.</p><p>He retrieved Heimdall’s fallen blade from the ground as the possibilities whirled through his head.  He’d just settled on running the Asgardian through with his own blade before feeding his soul to the appropriate gem when a beam of yellow light hit him from behind.</p><p>The force of the beam staggered him forward even as it rent a gash in his impenetrable armor.  He turned, palm out to block the beam, and was confronted with a maroon head sticking through the deck.  And embedded in its head was the very reason he’d dropped by.  The sudden sight of it that had been his drove all thoughts of retribution against Heimdall out of Thanos’s mind. </p><p>Vision floated up through the floor, eyes locked on Thanos.  “You must be Thanos,” he greeted the Mad Titan calmly.</p><p>In response that named hurled Heimdall’s sword at the entirely too proper construct.  Once again, Vision’s body phased enough out of existence to allow the sword to pass through unimpeded.  Instead of spearing the maroon man into the bulkhead behind him it merely speared the bulkhead. </p><p>Vision cocked his head in a manner suggesting disappointment in such an obviously flawed attack.  “An excellent throw,” he commented in that way the British have of sounding both cordial and condescending at the same time.</p><p>Thanos reached out telekinetically to pry the stone off of the simulacra’s head, but couldn’t grasp it.  Visions simply floated there waiting.  “I believe humans call this a Mexican Standoff,” he observed.</p><p>Thanos straightened, regarding him.  “Impressive design,” he stated.  “But you are not indestructible.”</p><p>“No,” Vision agreed, “just untouchable.”</p><p>Thanos’s upper lip skinned back in rage.  “And what about your friends?” he asked menacingly before turning to deliver a finishing punch to Heimdall.  The Asgardian had as yet not managed to extract himself from the wall.</p><p>Vision retargeted the yellow beam of light to Thanos’s back.  But Thanos dodged aside, clearly expecting that response.  Vision cut the beam off but not before its leading edge impacted the wall a few centimeters from Heimdall.</p><p>“You might want to be careful where you point that,” Thanos cautioned him before preparing a blow that would surely finish the pinned Asgardian for good.  Vision froze in indecision, as memories of Rhodes’s accident played through his mind in a guilt-ridden loop. </p><p>He’d deliberately targeted his beam on Thanos the last time in a way designed to miss Heimdall, should the Mad Titan manage to get out of the way.  Even so, upon the event he’d impacted the wall far closer than he’d expected.  He’d come to realize that he’d lost a level of precision when he’d left Jarvis behind, and he wasn’t exactly sure of his aim.  He couldn’t use the beam.  But the only other way to stop this would be physically.  He doubted that even Thanos could hurt his Vibranium body, but that wasn’t really the point.  Thanos truly didn’t care about him.  He wanted the gem.</p><p>And he wouldn’t stop.  If Vision didn’t do something he’d simply move on to Groot, then Rocket, then Banner once he found him.  All of these thoughts flashed through his mind in the fraction of a second preceding Thanos’s death blow, and despite the speed at which he was thinking Vision could not make a decision.</p><p>In the end he wasn’t forced to; just before Thanos’s death punch could connect a green body exploded through the wall Kool Aid Man style and slammed into the murderous gorilla.  Hulk grappled Thanos in motion, slamming him into the wall opposite the green monster’s hastily erected entrance.  They barely missed the corner where Rocket had fallen.</p><p>Hulk bounced off, giving that tiny bit of extra momentum to Thanos’s sudden encounter with a bulkhead, before directing his remaining momentum in a right angle to their path.  He landed on his feet, sliding across the front of the compartment, eyes glued on Thanos.</p><p>Thanos extracted his head from the bulkhead and turned a glare on the beast.  His eyes hardened as he saw the Eyes of the Allfather staring back at him.  The effect lasted only a moment longer before fading, as if the Heimdall had only wished to be certain that Thanos knew how he’d been interfered with.</p><p>Thanos’s hands closed into fists of their own accord, carving handful sized clumps of bulkhead out in the process.  He launched himself off of the wall and hurled the first at the Hulk, who swatted it aside, and roared angrily.</p><p>He was just winding up to throw the second when a voice spoke from behind him.  “You forget about me?” Rocket asked, extending yet another weapon.  This one was leveled at the location that most humanoids kept their solid waste excretion points.  Then he fired.</p><p>The close range blast threw Rocket back into the wall.  Thanos’s armor contained most of the plasma blast, but a significant portion of energy found its way through the kinks to impact flesh.  The impact launched him forward and slightly up.</p><p>Hulk’s clenched right fist was there to meet him.  The full power cross was enough to knock Thanos down.  Hulk’s foot shot out, kicking Thanos in the head.  The force of the blow knocked him back to his feet.  Then Hulk grabbed him, by his chest armor and heaved him into the only corner of the room not currently occupied.</p><p>It probably wasn’t the green rage monster’s best of ideas.  Not even in the top ten really.  The force of that crash was far from worth the time it gave Thanos to recover from the two-pronged attack.  He stood back up, eyes on the Hulk, and wiped a bit of his own blood from his lips.  “You again,” he said finally, seeming more annoyed than anything else.  Hulk bellowed in response and charged.  This time Thanos was able to meet him on his own terms.</p><p>The battle raged around (and often through) the room as Vision watched.  He wanted to help.  He was even beginning to feel a need to help.  He liked Banner and Hulk.  He didn’t want to watch them be killed.  But he also knew that joining the fight was the one thing he couldn’t do.  It was exactly what Thanos wanted.  And even if he couldn’t actually hurt Vision there was always the possibility that he’d be able to get the stone.  Vision wasn’t even sure what would happen to him.</p><p>At a point when the fight was occupying the front of the compartment, he went over to help Heimdall.  He materialized himself long enough to spread the parts of the wall that had crumpled around the Asgardian, effectively wedging him in.</p><p>“You’re the key,” Heimdall said in warped form of thanks as Vision helped him out of the wall.  “If he cannot reach you, he cannot win.”</p><p>“He will kill you all,” Vision stated.</p><p>Heimdall looked at him.  “But he will not win,” he said as before, limping over to his sword and removing it from the wall.  Then he turned and leapt back into the fray.  He worked himself into a flanking position with Hulk.  Thanos turned ninety degrees, relegating responsibility for the green monster to his left arm and Heimdall to the other.</p><p>It seemed to have some effect.  Thanos was not able to land nearly as many blows, yet neither of their attacks was doing more than acting as an irritant.  They both kept trying to work their way to his back, often to the cross purposes of the other.  Most of the time they simply ended up orbiting their larger opponent.  Other times they ended up almost side by side.</p><p>As the dance progressed Rocket shook himself awake.  He’d barely raised his singed furred head before Thanos lobbed what was left of the control console at him.  He activated his jet pack, launching himself to the ceiling and began sighting his weapon in on their assailant.  Unfortunately, the other two’s erratic movement patterns made it difficult to find a shot.</p><p>“Pick a direction!” he yelled in frustration as the other two continued their strange dance.</p><p>“Perhaps you would like us to script our entire strategy for him,” Heimdall replied as he sidestepped a torso sized fist.  He brought his sword up but missed the gap between the bracers and the gauntlet in Thanos’s armor.  The sword deflected harmlessly to the side.</p><p>Meanwhile Vision watched on in indecision.  He was in the same boat as Rocket as far as attempting to use his infinity stone bhindi to create a beam of energy.  He knew Heimdall was right when he warned him against getting involved.  But he’d come to learn that right was often a far more arbitrary thing than he’d once thought.  He could play spoiler for eternity.  But it would mean watching everyone he cared about die. </p><p>And he had no doubt that Thanos would begin torturing people until he gave in.  Could he bare to watch those people become twisted into broken parodies of what they’d once been?  He thought of the tortured souls he’d seen in Gamora and Nebula.  Would he be able to watch Tony or Colonel Rhodes, or Steve be damaged on such a fundamental level? </p><p>And the two sisters were probably the best-case scenarios despite the wide margin of emotional damage that seemed to exist between them.  What if they were reduced further?  What if he succeeded in wrenching all volition from their vitality and turned them into just another of his nearly mindless drones?  It seemed a fate worse than death.</p><p>Thanos bellowed, breaking into Vision’s thoughts.  He had good reason.  A moment before Hulk had managed to punch him into Heimdall’s sword.  This time Heimdall had managed to find an opening in the armor.  The sword didn’t go in very far, but it clearly went in far enough for him to feel it.</p><p>Thanos retaliated by backhanding Heimdall into the wall behind him, then punching Hulk back.  Having finally established enough personal space, he sent a telekinetic wave of debris at Rocket.  He quickly stepped forward, interrupting Hulk’s return punch with one of his own.  Then he reached low and grabbed the rage monster by an ankle.</p><p>Hulk found himself being lifted effortlessly into the air just before Thanos began slamming him into the ground at both of his sides.  He used Hulk as a club to hammer Heimdall as he attempted to come to the green rager’s rescue.</p><p>Then he stopped, as if examining the effect.  Hulk made another clumsy swing at him.  Thanos resumed slamming him into the ground for several more rounds before hurling Hulk out the very hole he’d entered the fray from.</p><p>“I’ve had enough of you,” Thanos bellowed stomping over to the hole, clearly intent on finishing the job this time.</p><p>It was at that point that Vision realized he couldn’t heed Heimdall’s counsel.  He couldn’t stand by and watch his friends be slaughtered one by one.  It may not have been the best right decision.  But he was suddenly certain that it was the right decision for him.</p><p>Yet he’d already seen how ineffective physical attacks seemed to be.  Even now, after having been skewered in the back, their enemy showed no sign of any serious injury.  No doubt the two of them could pummel each other for almost an eternity, but one quick snatch would end it all.  He wasn’t sure of his precision anymore, but he was certain that he couldn’t avoid making a mistake for an eternity.</p><p>He tried firing another energy beam, but Thanos simply held his palm out, blocking it.  Vision closed his eyes momentarily, as if double checking that his was the correct course.  Then he charged.  Thanos tried to backhand him away, but his arm passed through Vision’s incorporeal body.</p><p>Then Vision solidified and grabbed Thanos in the right cheek.  As the blow landed a yellow glow traveled from the Mind Stone down the left side of Vision’s face to his shoulder, where it made a sharp turn up to that hand.  Thanos’s eyes widened as they caught Vision’s meaning.  The blue stone in his gauntlet flashed, but before he could do whatever it was he had in mind, the glow reached his head. Both of them became completely still.</p><p>Heimdall collected himself from the floor and limped over to the locked combatants.  Their eyes were open but it was clear that whatever they were seeing was not in this room.</p><p>“What the hell’s going on?” Rocket asked from the other side of the room.  “Groot!” he exclaimed before Heimdall could respond. </p><p>The Asgardian glanced over his shoulder to see the talking rodent swoop over to its plant friend.  “They appear to be locked into a battle of wills,” Heimdall observed.</p><p>“Groot,” Rocket called to his unconscious friend.  “Groot,” he repeated with added force in his voice.  He slapped the mini-Ent’s face softly, taking care to avoid the crack.  Groot’s eyes fluttered and opened.  It was clear that it was in a great deal of pain, however that worked for such a being.  Rocket sighed in relief.</p><p>“I believe his kind can heal from such injuries,” Heimdall said pointedly.</p><p>“Yeah,” Rocket agreed, carefully lowering his friend back to the deck.  Then he grabbed his gun and stood, a determined look in his singed furred face.  He began stalking towards the locked duo, gun extending again.</p><p>“What do you intend to do?” Heimdall asked.</p><p>“Kill me this bastard,” Rocket mumbled, hopping up onto the remains of a destroyed console and leveling the gun at Thanos’s Temple.</p><p>Heimdall placed a massive hand on the barrel.  “Can you be certain that you will kill him with your first shot?” he asked, leveling that piercing gaze at the cyborg.</p><p>“Yeah . . .” Rocket snapped, attempting a glare at the Asgardian.  Heimdall cocked his head as if to suggest a lack of confidence in that assessment.  Rocket glanced back at his target.  This creature had survived for countless millennia, despite being right at the top of most everyone’s shit list.  As in, if they could have figured out a way to off him, they’d have done so long ago.  Yet he was still here, and many of them weren’t.  It was doubtful that no one had ever tried to assassinate him at range.</p><p>Yet still Rocket couldn’t bring himself to lower his gun.  He really wanted to shoot this monster, even if doing so was a very bad idea. </p><p>“Any blast will most likely sever their link,” Heimdall pointed out.  When Rocket didn’t respond he placed his hand on the top of the weapon’s barrel and applied pressure.  Rocket resisted for a moment longer before giving up and allowing the weapon to be lowered.</p><p>“So, what exactly do you propose we do?” he asked acidly.</p><p>“I’m not sure,” Heimdall replied.</p><p>“Well that’s helpful,” Rocket replied sarcastically.  Then “Wait, what if we space him?” he asked as an idea occurred to him.</p><p>Heimdall shook his head.  “He would survive until his ship could bring him aboard.”</p><p>“What if we blew up the ship?” Rocket asked.</p><p>“Doubtful that would kill him,” Heimdall replied.</p><p>“You come up with an idea then,” Rocket replied irritatedly.</p><p>“I’ve thought of many,” Heimdall replied calmly.  “I simply refrain from blurting out the bad ones.”</p><p>“Oh, and what’s that left?” Rocket asked pointedly.</p><p>“Anything we do must, of necessity, be definitive and immediate,” he replied.</p><p>“Well that’s not asking much,” Rocket replied switching back to modus sarcasticus.  “And here I was thinking this would be hard.  Like listening to Quill talk.  Boy was I wrong,” he added, holstering his gun and stomping back over to Groot.  Heimdall watched him stalk across the room with mild interest before turning back to the main issue.  “It must be definite and quick,” Rocket grumbled, doing his best to imitate the Asgardian.  He kicked a piece of one of the consoles out of his way as a display of his irritation.  The piece bounced off of an upright chair and hit the view screen at the front of the compartment.</p><p>Heimdall’s eyes tracked the projectile to the screen and then froze.  The screen, like most of the room, had been destroyed in the fight.  But it wasn’t the screen his mind had locked onto, or its current state.  It was what that screen represented: a view leading to the cosmos in all its infinite wonder and power.</p><p>“Can we still make a jump into hyperspace?” Heimdall asked.</p><p>“What?” Groot asked, as if not able to understand the connection.  “No,” he said before Heimdall could explain “the navigational computer is trashed.”  For emphasis he pointed to what remained of the console Thanos had dive rolled through upon Heimdall’s entrance.</p><p>“There must be a backup somewhere,” Heimdall prompted.</p><p>“Maybe on a warship,” Rocket said pointedly “but this is some rich guy’s luxury liner.  Redundancy costs money.  Besides, it’s not like the designer ever expected the ship to be in combat.”</p><p>“Could you rig something up?” Heimdall asked.</p><p>“What for?” Rocket demanded, glancing at the shattered display himself.  “Wait, no,” he said holding one finger up.  “No, no, no, no, no,” he added for emphasis.</p><p>“A moment ago, you wanted to blow the ship up,” Heimdall pointed out.</p><p>“Yeah, but not when we were on it!” Rocket shouted insistently.  “I meant after we’d left.  Have you ever seen what happens when someone tries to leave a ship in hyperspace?”</p><p>“Do you have another idea?” Heimdall asked.</p><p>Rocket opened his mouth to argue but nothing came out.  He knew the Asgardian was right.  Whether he wanted to admit it or not was debatable.  “Fine,” he ground finally as he stalked, yet again, across the room “but I want it on record that this is your bad idea.”</p><p>“What bad idea?” a voice asked from the doorway.  They both turned to see banner wearing one of Tony’s loaner suits.</p><p>“Kamikaze Kid over here,” Rocket replied waving one arm in his general direction “wants to ram the ship into a black hole, killing us all.”</p><p>“Why don’t we just take the gems and leave?” Banner asked.  “I mean, not that your plan doesn’t contain a certain irony, but what if he wakes up before we can drive him into a sun?”</p><p>“Now that’s a much better plan,” Rocket replied approvingly.  “Mostly because it doesn’t involve us all dying,” he added as he stalked around the duet to study the gauntlet.</p><p>“It is certainly worth making the attempt,” Heimdall replied as he moved to get a better view himself.</p><p>The blue glow surrounding the gauntlet seemed to have gotten more intense since he’d last looked at it.  As they were watching a bolt of lightning arced from the gauntlet to the deck plating below it.  The glow diminished slightly, but appeared to be strengthening again.</p><p>Rocket stared for a moment before turning back around.  “You know, one singeing a day is my max.  I think I’ll just go work on that nav computer,” he said, squatting down to assess the damage.</p><p>“I think I’d better do it,” Banner said, not at all sounding sure of himself.  “I am wearing Tony’s armor after all.”</p><p>“Can it handle high voltages?” Heimdall asked, unconvinced.</p><p>Before Bruce could reply another play of lightning emitted from the gauntlet.  “Yeah,” he said, once again failing in the reassurance category.  “Tony said his suit once absorbed Thor’s lightning.”  Heimdall still didn’t seem that convinced but he stepped further back, waving at the gauntlet as if to say ‘it’s all yours’.</p><p>Banner tentatively put his left arm out.  Then he began taking slow, cautious half steps towards the gauntlet.  His face was turned away from the target and his eyes were sealed shut but for a crack he was peeking through. </p><p>He made it four steps before the dreaded bolt of lightning leapt from the blue jewel straight towards his outstretched arm.  The blast slagged the exterior of the suit’s arm and slammed him into the wall.  He had just enough time for the nerves in his arm to register the searing heat surrounding it before a safety measure engaged and the arm fell to the floor in pieces.  The gauntlet portion, however, remained intact thanks to its sudden thermal warping.</p><p>“Ahhhh,” Banner groaned, clutching his armored left hand with the right.  Heimdall stepped quickly over, stuck the fingers of each hand into the opposing edges of the red-hot metal and yanked them apart.  Banner danced around, still cradling his left hand for another moment.  “Thank you,” he muttered looking up from a grimace.  “I guess the blue stone puts out more charge than Thor,” he added in that self-deprecating way he had.</p><p>“So it would seem,” Heimdall agreed.</p><p>“I better go run this under cold water,” Banner said waving his bare hand about.  It was already bright red.</p><p>“The medical table can take care of the thermal damage,” Heimdall suggested.</p><p>Banner stopped, clearly cursing himself for not having thought of that.  “Right,” he agreed.</p><p>“Take Groot with you will ya?” Rocket asked without looking up from his work. </p><p>Banner glanced at the prone plant.  “Right,” he said again, moving to acquiesce.</p><p>“Not that it’ll matter much,” Rocket added after they’d gone “seeing as we’re back to everybody dying.”</p><p>“It takes only one to activate the drive,” Heimdall pointed out.  “I will stay behind.”</p><p>“That’s special and all,” Rocket replied while splicing some wires together “but the humie was right; this plan fails if fug ugly over there regains his senses early.”</p><p>“Yes, he was,” Heimdall conceded.</p><p>  “Especially since there’s not a black whole within a couple hour’s travel,” Rocket added, jamming a cable into his pad.  He examined the display for a moment.  “Nope, that’s not right,” he said yanking the cable back out.  Heimdall turned to examine Vision and Thanos.  He wondered if they’d have enough time at all.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Nova Squadron Conference Room</p><p>Xandar Prime</p><p>“Prime,” Quill greeted the leader of the Nova Corps before he’d fully cleared the doorway to the briefing room “we’re here to help.”</p><p>“Mr. Quill,” Irani Rael replied turning from the window she’d been contemplating out of.  It was a view of a marvelous city that stared back.  An easy sight to become lost in.  If it weren’t on fire.</p><p>Her eyes glanced over the other members of the party as they followed Quill into the room.  “You seem to have recruited quite a few allies,” she observed.</p><p>“It’s more like we recruited them,” Tony corrected her, earning a confused look from the prime. </p><p>Quill turned to cast a quick glare back at Tony.  “Really?” he demanded.  “You’re going to argue about semantics now?”</p><p>Tony ignored him.  “We need to get into your vault,” he said to the woman.</p><p>“And you are?” she asked.</p><p>“Tony Stark, of Earth, Ma’am,” he supplied in a clipped we’re-really-pressed-for-time way.</p><p>“That’s Nova Prime,” Gamora muttered.</p><p>“Are we really going to argue about semantics right now?” Tony shot back.  He turned back to Irani.  “The vault?” he asked.</p><p>She studied Tony for a moment.  “You’re from Earth?” she asked.  Tony nodded.  “How ironic that you came all the way here,” she added wistfully.</p><p>“Please Prime,” Quill added, cutting back into the conversation.  “If we can get the power stone off of Xandar we can hide it somewhere.”</p><p>“Where?” she asked, refocusing her attention on Quill.</p><p>“Anywhere’s better than here,” Nebula muttered.</p><p>“Not to mention the fact that this whole hostile invasion becomes unnecessary,” Tony added, waving at the unseen multitudes of invaders.  The leader of one of the greatest militaries in the galaxy’s eyes bounced between Quill and Stark several times, as if attempting to discern their trustworthiness.</p><p>“You’re in luck,” she said, coming to a decision and setting herself into motion towards them.  “For unknown reasons Thanos is no longer present in the vault,” she continued as she brushed past them into the command center for Nova Prime.</p><p>Tony was the first to react to this surprising news.  “Excuse me?” he asked as the entire gang about faced to follow her.</p><p>“What do you mean he’s no longer present?” Gamora added.</p><p>“That’s all we know,” she said, leading them up set of stairs to a raised platform that ran the perimeter of the room.  She walked up to a tech sitting at a workstation.  “Show them the video,” she ordered.</p><p>The tech tapped several commands on the station’s holographic keyboard and brought up a video file.  On it Thanos was in the process of giving instructions to the minions surrounding him when he suddenly stopped and looked up at the ceiling.  An unholy grin spread across his face and then he was gone in a flash of blue light that seemed to pass through the ceiling.</p><p>“Wait, what was that?” Quill asked.</p><p>“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Tony replied, squinting at the video as the sequence started over again.</p><p>“I have,” Steve replied in a quiet voice.  “That’s what happened to Red Skull when he touched the Tesseract back in 1945.”</p><p>Colonel Rhodes was the first to process that data.  “Shit,” he uttered.</p><p>“So?” Quill asked.  “We already knew he had the Tesseract,” he said pointedly.  “The only question is where he’d go.”  He shrugged, “Anywhere’s better than here as far as I’m concerned,” he added, echoing Nebula’s earlier statement.</p><p>“No,” Tony replied, with just a soupcon of condescension in his voice “the question is why he’d leave when he had an infinity stone within his . . . shit,” he finished as his train of thought arrived at the same destination Rhodes’s had moments before.</p><p>“Within his shit?” Gamora asked confused.</p><p>“How’d he know?” Steve asked, also coming to that conclusion.</p><p>“I don’t know but somehow he did,” Tony said as the blood drained from his face.</p><p>“Do you understand any of this?” Drax asked Quill.  The star rogue shook his head.</p><p>“Somehow he knew we were in orbit,” Rhodes explained.  “He used the Tesseract to teleport to the ship and get the mind stone while we were in transit.”  There was a moment of silence as everyone realized what that meant.  Both groups had left people behind on the ship.  Most of them had been left there for their own safety.  And now it looked as if they’d had to deal with Thanos on their own.  It was hard to not feel as if each and every one of them hadn’t abandoned their friends to a painful death, or perhaps an even more horrific life.</p><p>Nebula recovered from this news the quickest, though some might have suggested that feat owed more to her not caring about anyone than any mental flexibility.  “We must hurry,” she insisted “retrieve the power stone, and escape before he comes back.”  To say that statement failed to earn her any friends would have been an understatement.  To say that she could have cared less would have been equally so.</p><p>Without thinking about it, Tony’s arm snaked out.  He snatched her by her armor’s collar and hauled her into striking range, the other arm cocked to do . . . something; he honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead.  The armored fist just hovered there. </p><p>He could feel the tension level in the group ratchet up like a torque wrench at its upper limit.  Suddenly the tentative alliance between them was wavering.  They’d gone from one group into three.  Tony’s Avengers were clearly ready to back him up.  The Guardians were just as ready to defend Gamora’s sister, mostly out of respect for Gamora, he was certain.  That left Steve’s Avengers caught in the middle, unsure of what to do. </p><p>Even in his sudden anger Tony knew they could not afford this divisiveness.  He knew it, but he just could not make himself lower his fist.</p><p>Of all the people there, only Nebula seemed completely calm.  She just stood there and stared at him impassively.  She’d assessed his character before they’d made it to Earth and was well aware that he wasn’t the type to take his mistakes out on others.  Nor was he a cold-blooded killer.  She knew that type very well.  It looked out at her in the mirror every day.</p><p>Eventually the arm dropped.  “Monster,” Tony hissed as he forced himself to release her armor.</p><p>“Does that make me wrong?” she asked pointedly, giving him that unnervingly deathlike stare.</p><p>“No, it doesn’t,” Steve said firmly from Tony’s side.  Tony glanced at him as if suddenly remembering all the spectators to his little outburst.  He nodded, signaling both thanks and agreement.</p><p>“Alright then, we’ve got to move,” Steve said.  “For whatever reason Thanos hasn’t returned yet, but we have to expect him to any moment.”  He turned to the Nova Prime.  “What’s the fastest way to this vault?” he asked.</p><p>She didn’t respond immediately.  The look on her face made it clear that she’d rather have just about any other group to help her people through this crisis.  But she didn’t have any other group.  She had them.  And they were still her best hope, even if they did squabble like sibling enemies. </p><p>The pause was only a moment or two.  “Take the elevator on the east side of the building to ground floor,” she instructed them.  “The structure just across the tarmac is the entrance to the vault.  You’ll have to figure out how to get down there,” she continued.  “It’s three deg below the surface and Thanos’s soldiers took the elevators.”</p><p>“That’s already taken care of,” Tony assured her.  “I have just one question.  What’s a deg?”</p><p>She blinked in surprise at the question, then looked about the room.  She needed a referent, something she could point to.  A ruler would have been the simplest, but she didn’t make a habit of carrying rulers on her just in case warriors from a backwards planet might show up.  Finally, she settled on the height of the multi-story room they were standing in.</p><p>“This room, from the floor to the ceiling, is about four hecks,” she told them.  “A deg is one thousand and five hundred hecks.”</p><p>Tony glanced first at the floor, then the ceiling, letting the laser range finder in his suit measure the distance.  “That’s just over four miles,” he stated.</p><p> “Right, let’s move,” Steve said, instinctively grabbing the reigns.  Nearly everyone turned immediately to obey.  Quill paused for a moment, as if debating arguing for authority.  But, as much as he hated the idea of entrusting his team with someone else, there simply wasn’t enough time.  Besides, it wasn’t as if this was an order that could be argued against.  In the end he turned to follow the others.</p><p>“Thanos may be gone,” the Prime called after them “but his lieutenants are all down there.”</p><p>“We can handle them,” Nebula replied without turning.  Everyone else ignored her. </p><p> “Clint should stay here,” Tony stated as he and Steve followed the others.</p><p>“What?  Why?” Clint asked, spinning to confront Tony.</p><p>“Overwatch,” Tony replied.</p><p>“What?” he asked disbelievingly.  “No.  This is about Wanda, isn’t it?” he accused.  “You don’t want me to go down there with you because you don’t think you can trust me.”</p><p>“Clint,” Steve said, stepping bodily between the two “this isn’t about who trusts whom.  He’s right.  We need you here, keeping an eye on all the monitors.”  Clint thought it over.  It didn’t seem right, but he trusted Steve.  Tony remained silent, though it appeared to take some effort.  He appeared to be biting his tongue.</p><p>Clint glanced back and forth between them a couple of times.  “Fine,” he acceded, brushing past Tony on his way back to the dais.  Behind his back Steve gave Tony a meaningful glance before hurrying to catch up.</p><p>They found the indicated elevators.  A quick scan showed them to be freight elevators.  They piled in.</p><p>“Just so we’re clear,” Tony said as the doors began closing “I didn’t want him here because I don’t trust him.”</p><p>“Does that go for me too, Tony?” Steve asked.</p><p>Tony shook his head.  “I get why you made your choice,” he ground out, surprising all who knew him with the intensity of his anger “but Clint decided he was so moral he could make someone else’s choice for them.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you, Tony?” Steve asked pointedly.</p><p>“You may recall that I didn’t push for The Accords,” Tony bit out.  “I just made sure there was an escape clause.”</p><p>“I was actually referring to Ultron,” Steve muttered.</p><p>“Ultron?” Tony asked in disbelief, turning to glare at Steve.  “If Ultron had worked, we wouldn’t have to worry about a homicidal purple gorilla trying to upstage Jack the Ripper.”</p><p>“But it didn’t work, did it?” Steve replied.   “You made a unilateral decision that affected the entire team without even consulting us.  You did it again when you maneuvered Secretary Ross into running the team.”</p><p>“Is that what this whole thing’s been about?” Tony asked incredulously.  “You just couldn’t handle being replaced?”</p><p>“I couldn’t handle how you never listen to anything anyone else has to say.  You just assume we couldn’t possibly have some intelligent input,” Steve shot back.</p><p>“When one of you says something intelligent, I’ll listen,” Tony snapped back angrily.  He knew it was the worst thing he could have said.  He knew it wasn’t technically true.  But he was just so tired of people accusing him of not listening, particularly when he was getting it from people who were so obviously tuning him out when he talked.  It was infuriating.</p><p>Steve regarded Tony with a look of shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.  “I’m curious Tony,” he asked quietly “is there anyone on the team you will listen to?  Is there even one person you consider your equal?”</p><p>Tony looked directly at Steve just as the doors opened revealing the otherworldly tarmac.  “There’s one,” he said bitterly “but he’s probably dead now.”  With that he stomped out of the lift.  Steve followed.</p><p>Through the argument Quill, Gamora, and Drax had done their best to blend into the metal walls of the lift.  It was obvious that some serious family arguments were being aired.  In a small way they were glad that it was happening now instead of in battle.  On the other hand, they couldn’t help but wonder how this behavior boded for the two factions’ smoothly working together in battle.</p><p>Either way, even Drax had been aware that he should stay out of it.  It wasn’t their business, and even if any of them had the temperament to play arbiter, there simply wasn’t enough time for them to catch up on even the few issues mentioned. </p><p>As the two feuding leaders departed Drax finally spoke up.  “Man, these guys have issues,” he stated.  For once, Quill and Gamora agreed wholeheartedly with him.</p><p>“What’s an Ultron?” Quill asked as they exited.</p><p>Ahead of them Steve was trying to figure out what to do about Tony.  The twenty or so meters they’d stomped had granted him enough time to cool off and take stock of their argument.  He was fairly certain most of it had actually been Tony’s worry for Peter.  It was clear he’d come to respect the kid.  Apparently, he had good reason considering that Parker had somehow managed to hack Tony’s security.</p><p>What Steve couldn’t decide was whether or not he should reveal the kid’s location.  Tony was angry with himself because he thought his orders had gotten the kid killed.  Finding out he was safe would definitely put that issue to rest.  But it might also cause Tony to turn that anger towards Steve right before they went into battle.  And they needed to work together.</p><p>He knew that.  But he also knew that letting Tony go into combat angry with himself would be to handicap him.  He wouldn’t think as clearly, and it was his mind that he’d always waged war with.  When most people fought it was instinctive.  A martial artist used trained instincts to react with lightning fast speed.  Some people simply raged and broke things.</p><p>But Tony’s brain never shut off.  It was his true gift.  And Steve had watched Tony in combat long enough to know that he used that gift in battle.  His greatest advantage wasn’t the suits he’d created.  It was the ability to use them to their fullest potential by applying that prodigious intellect to everything he did.</p><p>Steve flipped a mental coin, ignored its result completely, and activated his comm.  In the end it was far better to have Tony angry with him than with himself.  “Peter,” he said on the group’s comm frequency.</p><p>“Yeah what?” Quill called from behind him.</p><p>“Not you,” Steve called back.  Then he waited.</p><p>There was only a slight pause before a much younger voice came over the comm.  “Yes, Captain Rogers?” it asked.  Tony halted mid stride.</p><p>“Meet us at the structure on the east side of the building we landed in front of,” Steve commanded as he came abreast of Stark. </p><p>Tony grabbed his shoulder, stopping his motion.  “Peter’s here?” he asked, somehow managing to sound both relieved and concerned at the same time.</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “He was certain we were missing something.”</p><p>“Me too,” Tony admitted “but did that mean he had to come with us?”</p><p>In response Steve put a hand on Tony’s shoulder.  “Tony, sometimes we need to hear that the people we respect have faith in us.”  Tony started to argue that this wasn’t about faith, but a memory stopped him.  He couldn’t recall much of his time with his father when he was a kid, but he could never forget that one.  It was the first time his dad had let him use his torch.  He remembered how determined he’d been to prove himself.  And how great he’d felt when his father told him he’d done a good job.  No matter how they’d eventually parted, or what their relationship had turned into, that day was always at the core of his relationship with his dad.</p><p>Tony looked back at Steve as that half second memory finished and nodded.  He opened his mouth to say . . . something, but before he could Peter showed up.</p><p>“Someone’s eager,” Falcon called out as Peter swung around the spire of a building and landed a few steps behind Rogers.</p><p>“Reporting as ordered,” Peter said with an attempt at a salute.</p><p>Steve glanced back at Peter before returning his attention to Tony.  He knew he could have given the kid orders and been obeyed.  He knew that everyone, even Tony, would have accepted that.  But this was Tony’s charge. </p><p>“Tony,” he prompted tilting his head in the kid’s direction.</p><p>Stark glanced at Peter as he stood there, eagerly waiting.  He knew Steve was right.  He could feel it, deep down.  But he couldn’t help worrying about what would happen.  What if the kid got hurt?  What if he was killed?  Steve knew how to handle that responsibility, and Tony’d always been grateful to slide it over to him. </p><p>But this time it wouldn’t be Steve’s responsibility.  It couldn’t be.  If something happened to Parker, Tony wasn’t sure how he’d live with himself.  But that didn’t change who Parker was, the man he was becoming.  Responsibility or not, did he even have the right to stand in his way?</p><p>In a sudden epiphany Tony began to understand his father.  The way he’d acted, the times he’d held him back.  He was doing the same thing to Peter.  Maybe it was with the best of intentions, but then his father’s intentions had quite possibly been equally well meaning.  He’d seen how that turned out, and Peter was at least as intelligent as him.</p><p>Tony took a breath.  “So, Peter, Steve tells me you think we’re missing something?” he asked, finally looking, really looking, at the young man.</p><p>“I can’t explain it,” Peter said, starting to lower his salute.  Realizing what he’d done he raised it again, but then he wasn’t sure if he should have reversed it.  In the end he settled for clasping his hands behind his back.</p><p>Tony grinned good naturedly as he watched Peter fumble with military courtesy.  In truth he didn’t understand it himself.  It was one of the reasons he ignored it.  “Good,” he said as he turned back to the structure they’d been heading towards.  “I am too,” he added as he started walking, trusting Peter to see that as an invitation.</p><p>“That’s great,” Quill replied as the group began moving again.  “I’m glad you two had this moment.  Now could you guys be a bit more specific about your bad feelings?  Or are you just trying to see if you can get us to wet ourselves?”</p><p>“Haven’t a clue,” Tony replied as if he found that rather dismal fact to be amusing.  Or perhaps he was just amused at the prospect of needling the space thief again.  “But that only reinforces the need for us to keep an ace in the hole,” he added.</p><p>“Me?” Parker asked.</p><p>“You,” Tony confirmed as they entered the facility.  Its massive doors had been forced open, and all the security devices on the other side were a smoking ruin.  At the other end of the cavernous bay were a pair of freight elevators.  The red lights suggested they weren’t currently available at this level.</p><p>“Just tell me what you need,” Peter replied eagerly.</p><p>“The Power Stone is in a vault that’s roughly four miles under the surface of the planet,” Tony explained.  “Once we get down there, I want you to hang back in the elevator shaft.”</p><p>Peter stopped suddenly, then hurried to catch up.  “Wait, you just want me to stay behind and wait?” he protested.</p><p>Steve spoke up without turning.  “Keeping a reserve available is a time-honored military tradition,” he said with a slight reproach in his voice.  “And it’s an important task.  Although it usually includes more than one man,” he added.</p><p>“That’s just because no army in history has ever had a Spiderman,” Tony replied, laying the praise on perhaps just a bit thick.  Peter saw through it of course.  But he also saw that, corny as it was, the implied compliment was genuine.  It was the first time Tony had ever said anything like that.  At that point he’d have probably jumped down that hole swinging if Tony had asked.</p><p>“You can count on me,” he assured them.</p><p>“I sincerely hope we don’t need to,” Tony replied ironically.</p><p>“Because then that thing we’re worried about will have happened,” Peter replied with a wry grin.</p><p>“Right,” Tony agreed.  “But if it does, we’ll be counting on you.”</p><p>“Yes sir,” Peter replied, suddenly hoping himself that that thing wouldn’t happen.  The idea of having the fate of the galaxy on his shoulders was a bit scary.  Okay, a bit more than scary.</p><p>“Now that you’ve gotten that taken care of,” Quill said as he stepped up to the elevator doors “how exactly do you plan to get everyone down there?  They haven’t exactly practiced flying in these steel cans of yours.”</p><p>“Just jump,” Rhodes advised stepping through the group.  “The suit will take care of the rest.”  Then he made to demonstrate that advice.</p><p>“Colonel Rhodes,” Peter called out, stopping him mid-step.  “Do you mind if I hitch a ride again?” he asked.</p><p>“Hop on kid,” Rhodes replied.  There was a distinct grin in his voice.  Peter hopped on, making sure to keep low so as to avoid getting brained on the entrance as War Machine hopped through.  As soon as the suit was through the doorway Rhodes turned, giving them two thumbs up.  Peter waved.  Then they were gone, plummeting to the bottom of the shaft, more than a kilometer below.</p><p>Gamora stared at the doorway.  “This is insane,” she muttered to herself.</p><p>“Well why don’t you just stay up here then?” Nebula growled, shouldering past them and dropping through the door.  Wade followed immediately, then Steve followed by Tony.  Those that couldn’t fly paired off with those that did.  Brunnhilde rode with Thor.  T’Challa paired up with Bucky of all people.  Antman caught a ride with . . . somebody.  By ones and twos, they descended into the abyss.</p><p>Quill stepped up next to Gamora.  “You alright?” he asked.</p><p>“I can’t believe I’m about to trust an antiquated suit of armor to keep me from falling to my death,” she muttered, eyes set on the entrance as if she were looking at death itself.  But Peter knew she wasn’t seeing that entrance; nor was she seeing the base of the shaft it led to.  She was seeing what was beyond it.  She was seeing her father, waiting for her.  Not that he blamed her.  It was twisting his intestines into bowline knots, and he’d never lived with the monster.</p><p>But somehow, he knew empathy was the wrong way to approach her lack of movement, particularly when she was wearing powered armor, antiquated or not.  It would suggest weakness in her.  She’d told him enough what happened to the weak in Thanos’s household. </p><p>He searched for something, anything that could help her past this.  “Nebula did,” he blurted suddenly.  The look she gave him in response was enough to make him regret it.</p><p>“She could take that fall without the suit,” Gamora snapped.</p><p>“It would still hurt a lot,” he pointed out.</p><p>“Yes, but she’s insane,” Gamora shot back angrily. </p><p>Peter decided, for his own good, to leave the sisterly rivalry aspect alone.  But that still left the question of how to help her through this.  Thanos wasn’t there right now, but that could change any moment.  The longer they delayed the more likely they’d still be down there when that happened. </p><p>“Well, you could always dump the armor and ride down with me,” he offered whilst giving her the smarmiest smile in his toolkit.</p><p>Gamora glared at him momentarily.  Then she stepped forward and dropped down the hole.  Quill turned to see T’Challa and Bucky, the only others left, watching him.  He shrugged.  “Sisters, am I right?” he asked with a grin.  When they didn’t respond he stepped forward and dropped down the shaft.  T’Challa and Bucky glanced at each other, grinned, and followed.</p><p>“So, what do we know of these lieutenants?” Tony asked as they watched the smoothed rock of the shaft pass in front of them.</p><p>“What, now?” Gamora demanded.</p><p>“No time like the present,” Tony replied.  They looked down to where he was floating.  He’d taken the pose of someone resting on a couch as they fell.  He had his hands tucked behind his head with one knee up, and the other leg crossing it.  It was unclear whether his deliberate show of nonchalance at plummeting roughly four miles into a planet was earning him respect or resentment from the group.  A modest answer would probably be ‘both’.</p><p>“The black order is comprised of Thanos’s most devoted children,” Nebula said, surprising everyone.  “They are his generals, not lieutenants,” she added coldly.</p><p>“Right,” Gamora replied, jumping into the conversation.  Tony wondered yet again at the cause of the unending competition between those two.  He was forced to put that on hold as Gamora began listing the various capabilities of that group.  As the litany increased it became painfully clear that, even without Thanos, this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park.</p><p>As the various groups approached the bottom of that pit their suit thrusters activated, slowing their descent until they touched down.  For some it was a bit unnerving to lose control of their arms and legs for the landing sequence, but it got them down safely.</p><p>Once they’d landed, they stepped out of the shaft to avoid being landed upon.  The shaft opened into a massive spherical hole in the ground.  A bridge bisected the hole, leading from the elevators to the opposite side.  There were dozens of security devices dotting the walls, all of them lying in various stages of vandalism.  Most had been so damaged that their internal power sources had exploded, splitting their housings as if they’d been struck by lightning.  Those that still contained viable power supplies had little means to direct that power.</p><p>The hole and the tunnels beyond were all covered in some sort of purplish metal panels.  There were gaps revealing bare rock, where fighting had knocked them free.  Many security cameras appeared to still be operational.  That didn’t really surprise any of them though; the monster that had been described to them would want an audience to his overpowering strength.  He’d want people to watch in helplessness.</p><p>Despite the overwhelming arrogance that implied, Thanos had apparently left a platoon sized rear guard of minions to watch the elevators.  They turned, eerily as one, as the team began piling out of the shaft.  Several of them alighted from where they’d been standing, flying towards them from either side.</p><p>Steve took one glance at the situation and began snapping orders.  “Rhodes, take left,” he called out.  “Tony take right.  Everyone else stick to the bridge.”  Rhodes and Tony blast back off taking their assigned sectors while everyone else charged the ground bound.  Parker jumped from War Machine’s back, webbed the side of the bridge, and swung under it.  He came up perfectly placed to kick the rear most member of the rearguard off of said bridge.  Before they knew he was there he’d webbed the next group of three together, and then he was gone.</p><p>“Hey Rhody,” Tony called as they each set to their own mayhem “most kills buys.”</p><p>“Good thing you’ve got deep pockets, Tony” Rhodes replied as his minigun opened up.  Tony grinned and queued up some music.  ‘<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&amp;v=i97OkCXwotE">Cowboys From Hell</a>’ by ‘Pantera’ blasted through every suit’s comms.  The media icon began blinking for anyone whose irises showed irritation, allowing them to adjust the levels.   Several of them turned it off entirely.</p><p>Everyone else charged up the gut like they needed that one last yard for a first down.  They tore through Thanos’s goons with such ease that several of them simply couldn’t believe it.  In less than ten seconds the entire chamber was clear.  In that time most of the makeshift weapons they’d crafted for themselves had begun to look more like twisted clumps of metal than anything resembling a weapon.  All except Nebula’s industrial pins.  Not that she hadn’t also bloodied her weapons; she’d simply chosen hardened steel rods that were designed to handle a ton of weight without bending.</p><p>It wasn’t so much that Thanos’s children were fodder either.  Thanos’s army of mutilated minions was considered to be one of the most dangerous fighting forces in the galaxy. They were strong.  They were tough.  They were brutal.  And they absolutely would not stop.  In every way the very epitome of a terrifying fighting force.  But Thanos’s recruiting methods, while efficient at culling the weak, had the odd side effect of rendering said recruits rather inflexible. </p><p>They would do whatever he asked of them, more from the sadistic streak he’d bred into them at this point than anything else.  But even as the unlikely team up reviled them, they could not quite hold that against them.  When your world has collapsed to the two poles of feeling agony or watching others feel agony, who among them could truly say they wouldn’t have come to favor watching others suffer?</p><p>Either way, sadists rarely make good combatants.  The arrogant certainty that the pain they visited on others could not be revisited on them was a requirement for the very detachment that allowed them to enjoy viewing that very torment.  Arrogant warriors rarely last when pitted against their equals.</p><p>And the unsteady alliance they currently faced were far more than just their equals.  Their individual power might vary greatly amongst that group, but they were all more capable of ruin.  The minions’ slightly larger number were not close to what would be required to make up that balance.</p><p>When it was all finished Rhodes and Tony landed in the front of their formation.  “Got seven,” Tony stated.</p><p>“Same,” Rhodes replied.</p><p>“What?” Tony asked.  “You’re not counting that one that jumped at you and missed, are you?”</p><p>“I dodged out of the way,” Rhodes replied.  “That counts as enemy action in my book.”</p><p>“Boys?” Steve asked pointedly, eyebrows raised in disbelief. </p><p>“Right,” Tony said quickly.  “Sudden death?” he asked Rhodes.  The black suit nodded.  Steve pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.  He felt a sudden kinship with the character of Aragorn in the Lord of the Rings.  How he must have wanted to clock Gimli and Legolas.</p><p>He refrained from making that observation in favor of activating his comm.  “Clint, talk to me,” he said into his mic.</p><p>Before Clint could respond Quill stepped up to Tony.  “Could you turn that noise off?” he shouted.</p><p>“Noise?” Tony replied, aghast at his choice of adjective.  He looked about to argue, checked his situation, and lowered the volume to a manageable decibel.</p><p>“I found it relaxing,” Drax offered.  “It reminded me of a lullaby I used to sing to my daughter.”  The near argument about the musical value of Pantera was put on hold as that statement drew disbelieving stares from nearly all in attendance.</p><p>Steve was not one of those.  He was busy focusing on another conversation entirely.  “Well,” Clint’s voice said in his ears “you can forget about a stealth assault.  I count at least a company of the monsters plus four heavies, and they’re all ready for you.”</p><p>“How far?”</p><p>“The place seems to be a deliberate maze,” Clint replied.  “The next room fans into six passages.  Based on enemy deployments I’d say you want the third passage to your right as you enter.  After that you’ll pass three intersections, make a left, go up some stairs, take another left, take another set of stairs down, and make a sharp turn right.”</p><p>Steve glanced at Tony.  “Did you get all that?” he asked.</p><p>Tony nodded.  “Friday, update everyone’s pathing,” he ordered.  A moment later everyone saw a globe icon blinking.  When they focused on it the icon unspooled into a rather unobtrusive line drawn on their HUDs.  It was perfectly contrasted with whatever background it was superimposed on, yet not so bright as to be distracting.  The line led down the bridge to the next room before hooking right and disappearing past the entrance. </p><p>“Alright, let’s go!” Steve called out before starting down the bridge.  He started at a trot, worked quickly into a jog, and ended in a full run.  Most of the others managed to keep up with his progression, despite their unfamiliarity with the suits.  Rhodes, Tony, and Nebula, however, blasted into the air and charged over their heads.  Quill came right on their heels.</p><p>“The next room has about the same number you fought on the bridge waiting for you,” Clint said just before they crossed the threshold.  “No heavies.”  In response Tony and Rhodes accelerated, passing quickly to the other side of the room before arcing around.</p><p>Fire erupted from around the entrance, trying to hit them, but they were simply too fast.  They crossed paths, Tony taking the high road while Rhodes took the low, and charged back at their would-be assailants.</p><p>Before they could bring their weapons to bear the ground force swarmed through the entrance.  Their ambushers didn’t have enough time to retarget from there aerial assailants before they were swarmed over.  Tony and Rhodes were forced to abort their strafing runs in favor of avoiding friendly fire.</p><p>The fight barely slowed them down.  The last body hadn’t finished sliding down the wall it’d been slammed into as they charged down the indicated tunnel.  Room by room they slammed through their waiting foes like a bulldozer through a rotted house.</p><p>Indeed, their biggest threat turned out to be each other.  As they rushed headlong towards their goal it became next to impossible to avoid tagging an ally here and there.  Everyone just kept swarming around.  Some enemies got grouped up on.  Some were almost completely annoyed.  Parker was forced to dodge an allied shot several times.   Thor was forced to abort his whirling hammer of death attack on two separate occasions to avoid launching an ally into the walls.  Tony almost plugged Quill with one of his penetrator missiles (patent pending) three times.  Rhodes was forced to give up on his minigun and concussion pulses completely.</p><p>In spite of their coordination issues the group had no issues with any groups they ran into.  They quickly found themselves barreling through rooms, barely slowing down to clear them.  Each room was so alike to the others that they soon stopped noticing the details.  Each had smashed defensive batteries, shield emitters, and guard stations.  The bodies of Thanos’s initial march through the maze were littered everywhere.  Propelled by their haste to reach the stone before Thanos could return (and, if they were to be honest with themselves, the euphoria of crashing through all resistance with such ease) they’d allowed the entire running fight to become something of a blur, which nearly proved fatal.</p><p>As it turned out not all of Thanos’s minions were completely tactically inept; some had set an ambush by hiding against the rock of one of those side tunnels.  As soon as the group was past, they erupted in their rear.</p><p>Fortunately, Clint was in the mixed group’s ear about it before any serious damage could be done.  His acerbic comments as to their carelessness lasted far longer than the ambush.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Damages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Xandar</p><p>Nova Headquarters</p><p> </p><p>“They’re quite good,” the Nova Prime commented as she and Clint watched the group’s progress.  They’d doubled back to deal with the ambush he’d warned them of in record time.  Now they were moving forwards again.  Their progress, now lacking the carefree abandon of their earlier charge, was still quite fast.</p><p>“Yeah,” Clint grunted.  For some reason he was having trouble admitting it.  He wasn’t sure why.  Perhaps he was just annoyed because he’d been left behind.  He wanted to believe that; it would have been an honorable reason to be upset as he watched them crash through their obstacles.  Yet he was a far too self-conscious person to be certain of it.</p><p>“Those suits are impressive,” she added admiringly.</p><p>“I was surprised that you didn’t have anything like them yourselves,” Clint replied, trying to cover the sudden resentment her observation had sparked.</p><p>“We have synthetic weaves that will stiffen on impact, spreading the force of the contact out; I believe Mr. Quill is using such armor.  But we don’t have anything like that.”</p><p>“So that’s why he didn’t take a suit,” Clint said.</p><p>“Perhaps,” she replied.   “Perhaps that was a mistake,” she added as the space rogue took a blast that sent him flying into the wall.  Clint glanced a confused look her way.  Why would anyone use antiquated technology when they could use high tech?  It was like expecting a modern-day soldier to use twelfth century full plate.</p><p>She shrugged.  “Your armors might not be quite as advanced but they clearly offer certain advantages to your fighters.  How are they powered?”</p><p>  Clint hesitated a moment before saying “Something called an arc reactor.  It’s got a palladium ring that somehow creates a plasma.  That’s all I know.”</p><p>She nodded.  “I am aware of this generator design.  I’ve never heard of a culture discovering it so early in their development.”</p><p>“Oh?” he asked.  It came out as more of a grunt than anything.</p><p>“Most cultures don’t discover sustainable plasma reactor technology until after they’ve discovered faster than light travel,” she explained as they continued watching the screen.  Staying ahead of the group’s progress was getting a little difficult.  “Many of those only acquired it from the other races they met out here,” she continued.  “I suppose at that point we all focused more on upgrading our ships than our troops.  It’s quite an ingenious use of the technology actually,” she added admiringly.</p><p>“Not what you were expecting?” Clint asked.</p><p>It was her turn to cast a confused look.  “In what way?” she asked.</p><p>“Well, you said it was ironic that you were getting help from Earth,” Clint replied, glad to be off of the topic of Tony Stark’s brilliance.</p><p>“I’m afraid you misunderstood,” she replied coolly.  “I did not find the idea of receiving help from Earthlings to be ironic; I found it ironic that you came all the way here to protect an infinity stone from Thanos when you had the last two on your own planet.”</p><p>Clint shrugged.  “Yeah, in hindsight we probably shouldn’t have brought Vision,” he conceded.  “But . . . wait, did you say the last two?” he asked as her words sunk home. </p><p>She nodded.  “After your earlier request I’ve had several scholars scouring historical records for any information relating to the stones.  Just before Thanos attacked they’d uncovered that the Time Stone had been entrusted to a human sorcerer on Earth millennia ago.”</p><p>Clint swallowed reflexively as the implications of that statement sprinted through his head.  Besides being where he kept all his cool stuff, Earth was where his family was currently in residence.  “Does, uh, does Thanos know this?” he asked.</p><p>“I believe so,” she said grimly.  “We know he’s had agents on Earth for some time.  It seems unlikely that they haven’t located it.  What surprises me is that he didn’t start with acquiring it.”</p><p>“Uh, Stark said they had to be installed in the appropriate order,” he explained.  “The time stone is supposed to be next to last.”</p><p>She nodded again.  “I’m aware of this,” she said.  “But the time stone is not like the power stone.  It does not need to be slotted immediately.  It could have been held indefinitely without issue.  Yet he’s saved it for last.”</p><p>“Is it that powerful?” Clint asked.</p><p>“In the hands of the right mage,” she replied.  “Thanos is most likely the most powerful creature in this galaxy, but he is not infallible.  He could win a million fights for every fight he lost.  But, with the time stone, he could be forced to fight those battles over and over until he lost.”</p><p>“Perhaps he doesn’t know it’s there after all,” Clint replied hopefully.</p><p>She gave a half shrug.  “It is possible,” she admitted “but I think it unlikely.”</p><p>“Why?” he asked.</p><p>“Because of you,” she replied.  “Your group has done what none but Odin have accomplished in centuries.”</p><p>“You mean when we kicked his ass?” Clint replied bitterly.  He still had nightmares about how Loki had manipulated him.</p><p>“Yes,” she replied.  “Thanos is a being consumed with the need, not just power or control, but for domination.”</p><p>“You’re saying he needs us to know he’s coming so he can prove it won’t make any difference?” Clint asked.  She nodded.  “That’s insane,” he replied.</p><p>“Perhaps,” she replied noncommittally, turning back to the screen.  “But I hope you don’t mind if I say I hope it doesn’t come to that.” </p><p>Clint didn’t respond, instead choosing to return his attention to the screen as well.  It showed his friends quickly approaching their last hurdle to the power stone.  As with many of the previous rooms the enemy seemed to have prepared for them.  But this one wasn’t filled solely with fodder.  “I hope so too,” he agreed quietly.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Xandar</p><p>Vaults</p><p> </p><p>Tony, Quill, and Cap flew just ahead of the group as they entered the last room on the path to the vault proper.  In their running fight a few of them had managed to figure out the flight controls.  It hadn’t surprised Tony when Steve happened to be among them.  The one that did surprise him was Nebula, but he had a suspicion that her augment had allowed her to connect directly to the suit’s operating system.</p><p>The team charged into the room like a stampede of rhinoceros.  Clint had warned them ahead of time what was coming.  They knew this room would be different from those prior, but couldn’t really believe it.  They were all riding a wave of victory.  It was hard to truly accept that anything could stop them.  Even Tony and Rhodes found themselves becoming optimistic about their chances.  Perhaps that had been part of their opponents plans.</p><p>It became clear very quickly that those generals had been following their blitz through the maze.  Indeed, they had probably deliberately allowed those previous groups to be mowed under like blades of grass simply so they could see what they were up against, and plan their defense accordingly.</p><p>As they entered Corvus’s Glaive fell from the left side of the entrance, like an executioner’s axe.  Steve barely managed to raise the vibranium shield affixed to his suit’s left arm.  His eyes widened in shock as the glaive sliced through the hastily erected defense.  It barely offered enough resistance to deflect the blow from the rest of his body.  He’d heard Gamora explain that the glaive could cut through anything, but he’d just assumed she’d meant ‘anything but vibranium’.</p><p>Tony would have helped, but he had troubles of his own.  At his appearance Proxima Midnight hurled her spear at him.  He veered right, only to watch it adjust course to match.  “Great, a Patriot Spear,” he grumbled.  He’d already seen what a mere scratch from that thing had done to a far tougher being than he.  It was possible the armor would hold up against it.  Gamora hadn’t said <em>it</em> could cut through any substance.  Then again, it was a collapsed star, so he wasn’t keen to test that hypothesis.  Instead he rolled right half a second prior to impact.  The spear didn’t have enough time to reacquire him before it overshot.</p><p>About that point, War Machine blasted into the room.  Seeing Corvus nearly take Steve’s arm off gave him his first target.  He hit the smug bastard with a concussion pulse that stunned him just long enough for Rhodes to relieve him of the offending weapon.  He blasted away and hurled it at Supergiant.  Before it could finish its flight, the wayward glaive disappeared from the air, reappearing back in Corvus’s hand.   He raised the glaive again, only to be shot in the face by a series of plasma shots from Quill.</p><p>Realizing his momentum had carried him too far to be effective in that fight, Rhodes decided to join Falcon for a series of strafing runs over the large cavern.  They did a great deal to disrupt enemy movements, but that was it.  Thanos’s children were all quite tough.  Killing any one of them on a single strafing run was unlikely, though they did disable a few.  Not that it seemed to affect their morale at all.</p><p>By that point the rest of the group had charged into the room.  Corvus found himself facing a team up of Quill, Cap, Bucky, and Panther.  Between the four of them he found very few opportunities to attack with his glaive.  At one point that mini battle devolved into a demented version of monkey in the middle, as they each took turns swiping his weapon, only to have it teleport back to its owner.  But, often, that very act consumed enough of his attention for them to get a good hit or two through his defenses.</p><p>Gamora and Nebula cut their way through the lesser minions to confront Proxima Midnight directly.  Widow joined with Deadpool and Warmachine in their wholesale slaughter of the hundred or so lower level minions in the room.  Antman and Drax squared off against Black Dwarf, a fight that took on all the aspects of an old Ultraman episode once Scott enlarged himself. </p><p>Wanda hovered near the ceiling, weaving spells of interference.  She caused no real damage on her own, but she regularly stopped killing blows, jumbled enemy coordination, and forced openings that allies could exploit. </p><p>She was so far above the combat most didn’t notice her; the few shots she did take did minor damage to her armor, which was becoming something of a mixed blessing; it protected her, and allowed her to fly without having to focus, but something about wearing it was making spellcasting more difficult.  She was having to concentrate far more than normal for each spell.   Not only was that increasing her casting time, but it was limiting the number of spells she could maintain at one time.  And to top that off, the Black Order seemed more resistant, requiring even more concentration.</p><p>As she grappled with that, Friday was informing Tony that the spear had reacquired its target and was closing again.  He glanced over his shoulder to see it speeding towards him and cursed.  A spear that could home on a target was bad enough.  One that could fly faster than it was thrown was obviously cheating. </p><p>In a perfect world he’d have let it track him right back to the source, but it didn’t look as if he had enough time to get there.  Likewise, was he too far away from the other generals to be able to sub one of those targets.</p><p>He dove down towards the ground, the spear in hot pursuit.  Just before it could catch him, he twisted past a random minion, grabbed it with his left arm, pivoted around, and threw it at the spear. </p><p>His eyes widened in surprise as the spear cut straight threw his impromptu shield and kept coming.  He was barely able to dodge to the side before it struck his previous (barely) position, bouncing off of the ground and circling to make another stab at him.  He glanced around, looking for a tougher target; Supergiant was the closest of the generals.  Unfortunately, the spear was between them.</p><p>“Chicken it is,” Tony muttered, thrusting into the air directly at the spear.  Again, he managed to roll to the side just prior to impact, but this time the spear took a couple of flight control surfaces off the back of the armor as it passed.  For half a second Tony’s flight could best be described as wallowing.  Friday quickly corrected for the loss of maneuverability, and he charged directly at Supergiant at full speed.</p><p>Supergiant had no difficulty recognizing his intentions, and even less interest in complying.  She’d been attempting to establish a psychic link to one of their adversaries since they’d appeared, but it seemed that the electromagnetic fields generated by their powered suits were shielding them.  She’d just about settled on Quill when Thor charged into the room.  And then here came one of them with Proxima’s spear charging behind it.  She knew exactly what to do about that.</p><p>She focused on Thor, taking complete control of his mind.  She would have preferred to spend some time feasting upon his intellect, but that would just have to wait for later.  Instead she called upon his much-vaunted power of lightning to attack his allies.  She smiled sadistically as Thor’s bolt of lightning impacted Tony’s suit, sending him spiraling out of control to the ground. There was nothing she loved more than turning friends upon each other.  Often in such situations she’d even let the one she’d controlled go, just to see how they’d despair at the carnage they’d wrought.  Then she’d eat their minds.</p><p>She continued firing bolts of electricity at others of their enemies to varied results.  One bolt, targeted at Black Panther sent him flying, an absence that allowed Corvus to regain the upper hand in his fight with the quartet.  He took full advantage, swinging his glaive to connect with Bucky’s suit.  The sergeant instinctively raised his artificial limb to block the blow, only to have it severed just behind the wrist, right through the suit.</p><p>She fired another at Warmachine, but the heavier suit seemed to simply absorb the energy.  Other than a momentary loss of control there was no sign the suit had even been damaged.</p><p>“Someone want to get a handle on short circuit, over there?” Rhodes asked sounding mildly irritated.</p><p>She loosed another at Nebula, but she and Gamora managed to somehow maneuver Proxima into the line of fire at that very moment.  Proxima screamed in pain and anger.  The spear seemed completely unaffected.</p><p>She considered launching another at Antman, but it didn’t appear that Black Dwarf needed the help.  Antman had grown larger than him, which also made him quite a bit stronger, but he was also far squishier than his nearly invulnerable opponent.  He also seemed to be having coordination difficulties; difficulties that were not helped by Drax’s attempts to intervene.  So instead she turned her attention back to Quill.</p><p>Nothing happened.  No matter how hard she tried she could not make Thor fire anymore shots.  She was mildly disappointed; she’d watched from a distance as he’d used far more lighting than this on Asgard whilst battling his sister.  It was like getting that toy you’d always wanted only to have it break in the first five minutes of playing with it.  She set about relieving that frustration by having him attack the only other Asgardian she could see.  Brunnhilde gave ground quickly, hoping to buy time.</p><p>During this electric onslaught Tony was tumbling to the ground.  Through sheer luck the out of control state resulting from that blast had again forced the spear to overshoot him.  It curved around as he rolled to hand and knee and checked his power levels; they were showing the same overcharge as the last time he’d sparred with the Asgardian prince.  Before he’d become a cyclops of course.</p><p>“What a strange sensation,” Friday commented.  Tony ignored her, instead looking up to locate Supergiant.  He focused the entire overage into his repulsors and blasted her into the wall on the far side of the room.  As she slammed into the wall Thor regained control of himself momentarily, just long enough for his face to gain a look of horror at what he’d been doing.  Then she reasserted her will, making him continue his assault.</p><p>Tony had barely finished firing his super blast when he remembered the spear and launched himself into the air.  The spear flew directly under him, again curving to chase.</p><p>“This is getting ridiculous,” he complained, thrusting away from it.  In retrospect it occurred to him that blasting Supergiant to the other side of the cavern had probably not been the most tactically apt move he could have made.  It would have been better to direct the spear into her instead. </p><p>Now she was definitely too far away; he couldn’t keep counting on dodging the Patriot Spear as he made his way over to her.  He did need to get it off of his tail, preferably without the added state of getting impaled being applied.  He arced further left just in time to see Black Dwarf throw the larger Antman to the ground.  He straddled the rogue’s chest and raised both hands over his head, combining them into one giant fist to finish Scott off.  That, plus his incredible toughness, made him an ideal target in Tony’s mind.  The fact that he was the closest of all of the generals was just sealant on the paintjob.</p><p>“Could someone please deal with the caped one,” he called out, letting his irritation seep into his voice, as he curved towards the far more achievable target.  He pushed his thrusters to one hundred and thirty percent of rated maximum to try and deliver the projectile before Lang’s head was turned into cantaloupe, but it still didn’t look like he’d make it.</p><p>Fortunately, Scott managed to regain enough of his wit to shrink himself just before that flesh hammer could connect.  Instead of cracking his head like an egg the merged fists smashed an oddly shaped crater into the ground.</p><p>Black Dwarf gained a rather confused look as he attempted to ascertain what had happened to his plaything.  Then he spotted the smaller version just below his chest.  It was just climbing back to its feet.  He grinned anticipatorily and made ready another sledgehammer.</p><p>Before that one could land Scott re-enlarged, mid uppercut, knocking his would-be executioner back on his ass.   But the strain of having done so took its toll on his mental processes.  He’d never before managed to re-enlarge.  The tax of doing it once was bad enough.  He’d barely managed to remain conscious this time, and in truth, it was a pretty fuzzy definition of consciousness that applied to his current state.  He staggered around, unsure of where he was or what he was doing.  It was as if he’d downed a bottle of scotch in record time.</p><p>“Shit!” Tony cursed as Scott stumbled between him and his target.  He peeled left as hard as he could and glanced over his right shoulder to check on the spear.  There was no way it would miss Scott.  He twisted around, mid-flight, and hit the massive pseudo-Avenger directly in the helmet with overloaded repulsor blasts.  The impact was barely enough to throw Scott off balance.  He stumbled to the right, falling below the spear’s trajectory, somehow having the presence of mind to deactivate his suit.  Or it could have simply been an accident.  With that particular brand of chaos, one could never be sure.</p><p>Tony thrusted into the spear’s arc and accelerated towards the front of the room where Corvus Glaive was embattled with roughly 4 and a quarter suited figures.  Of the five of them, Bucky had definitely taken the worst of the exchange.  Aside from the scratches and dents all their suits were sporting, there was a suit gauntlet and partial forearm -filled with his shiny new metal arm- were lying on the floor some distance from the battle.  That said, he was still in the fight, doing what he could. </p><p>Steve’s armor didn’t look much better.   Aside from having managed to wreck both shields in record time, it had deeply etched grooves cut into it.  Some of them seemed so deep it was a shock to Tony that Rogers hadn’t been injured.  He was also surprised the suit was still functioning. </p><p>At his split-second appraisal Friday displayed a schematic of the eBay: slightly used, suit; a cursory glance made it clear that it had been forced to reroute power for several primary systems.  The suit’s repulsors were down, as well as the hand laser.  Steve had adapted by getting within Corvus’s guard, a move that would have been utter suicide without the others to keep the maniac busy.</p><p>In fact, the only person in their party that appeared untouched was Quill.  He hovered over the melee like an Apache helicopter, raining fire on all targets of opportunity.  Most of his fire was directed at Corvus, but he’d been interposing his intervention throughout the battlefield.  Several burn marks adorned his leather appearing armor, indicating that he’d taken several hits, but his armor had successfully shrugged them off.</p><p>T'Challa was looking a little worse for wear as well.  He had several cuts in his invulnerable armor, and his helmet had been shattered.  It didn’t seem to have affected his performance that much though.  Adrenalin was a wonderful thing.</p><p>Next down the totally messed up column was definitely Glaive.  He was showing significant wear all over his body, but seemed totally unaffected by it.  Tony readjusted his course towards the glaive wielder and accelerated.  One quick glance backwards was all the encouragement he needed to push his thrusters a little faster.  The timing was going to be critical.</p><p>He barreled into Corvus’s upper body, knocking him off balance.  Before Corvus could regain his footing, Bucky and Cap cooperated in kicking one out from under him.  Tony used the momentum of his impact to twist, throwing Corvus directly between him and the spear just before impact.</p><p>“NO!”  Proxima screeched as the spear hammered Corvus’s body into the wall, pinning him there.  A moment later that same blackness began to eat him from the impact point out.  The last thing to go was his head.  Despite the pain involved he never cried out, or writhed around.  Instead he simply fixed Tony with a red glare that promised worse than death.</p><p>There was little time for celebration as, at that point, Thor had finally gotten through Brunnhilde’s guard.  His hammer strike sent her flying into a nearby wall with such force that her body formed its own niche in the strata.</p><p>Tony watched as Thor advanced on her unconscious form in fury.  That ire wasn’t directed at Thor, whom he knew he’d have to fight once again, but at the monster controlling him.  And perhaps a bit at himself for having passed up an opportunity to end this puppet play.  He pointed a finger to where Black Dwarf was righting himself from Scott’s uppercut without looking.  “Deal with that,” he bit out.  “I’ll handle Thor,” he added before blasting to intercept the wayward Asgardian king.</p><p>Cap glanced after him for a moment as if wanting to say something.  He didn’t like the idea of Tony fighting Thor solo, but the engineer had managed to hold his own against the deity before.  He’d just have to hope he could again.</p><p>He turned his attention back in the area Tony had indicated.  Drax was there, doing everything he could to protect the unconscious form of Lang.  He was holding his own for the moment, but that condition would alter violently when Black Dwarf got back to his feet.</p><p>“You ever jousted before?” Cap asked Bucky, picking up Corvus’s oversized glaive.</p><p>“You know I haven’t,” Bucky replied, sounding amused by the concept.  He lifted his right arm to accept the glaive.    He inserted it under his left arm pit, wrapping the remainder of his suit’s forearm around the haft to stabilize it.  He blasted off, using the one palm repulsor to keep himself aloft.  It was by no means a straight trajectory, but that had the addition benefit of making him harder to hit. </p><p>“Go help your girlfriend,” Cap continued to Quill as he fought off a few lesser children.  They’d keyed on Panther’s injured state.  Many of the cuts in his suit had begun to bleed red blood.  He was doing what he could, but his mobility had been severely hampered. </p><p>Quill shot a disbelieving look at Cap.  “Who made <em>you</em> boss?” he demanded as he continued firing.  He was forced to admit, even if only to himself, that he’d been considering just that course of action.  But he found the audacity that this guy thought he could order him around galling.  He wasn’t a member of his team.  He didn’t owe him any allegiance, and he certainly wasn’t bound to his whims.</p><p>Steve glanced an exasperated look at Quill, a look blocked by his suit’s helmet.  A dozen possible responses made their way to Steve’s tongue before his brain vetoed them.  Asking if the space rogue had a better plan, or pointing out that there simply wasn’t time to have this argument were amongst those.  But such statements would have only served to cause the argument they didn’t have time for.</p><p>On top of that Steve was aware that, no matter how correct his course of action might have been, he had no authority over Quill.  And he’d clearly not agreed to take his directions.  Making it sound as if he was allowing Quill to help his significant other only made it worse.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Steve said in a clipped voice.  “I think you should help Gamora and Nebula.”</p><p>Quill’s eyes widened in surprise at the apologetic reversal.  It had been the last thing he’d expected.  He expected, perhaps even wanted, to have an argument about who would be this conglomerate group’s official leader.   And apparently, he’d been perfectly happy to have that argument right on the battlefield, which suggested some not so pleasant things about him, if he was to be honest. </p><p>But just because the guy could apologize didn’t mean he knew what he was doing.  There was still that other option Quill had been contemplating.  “What about Drax and your guy?” Quill asked just as Bucky reached Black Dwarf. </p><p>At the last moment Bucky gripped the haft of the glaive with his armored glove, just in front of where the remains of his left arm were holding it.  The sudden drop in counterthrust from the palm repulsor had the added benefit of dropping him below Dwarf’s defensive backhand and right into his side.  Despite the added grip he still slid down the overlarge haft.  Even so, the blade bit deep.  Dwarf roared with the pain of the strike, and the anger at actually having been injured.</p><p>“I’ll take care of that,” Steve said, before turning to T’Challa.  As far as he was concerned this discussion was over, and it had already taken far longer than it should have.  He’d hoped to be helping Bucky by this point; as it was, he figured he still had one more argument to get through.  Whatever Quill did was up to him.</p><p>There was a brief pause, as if Quill had wanted to say something, but stopped himself.  Then he blasted towards the battling trio.  Steve turned to T’Challa.  “King,” he said formally “your help here has been invaluable, but I think it best if you make your way back to the lifts.”  The statement was respectful, cordial, and correct.  Even so T’Challa’s eyes flared back at him in denial.</p><p>But that denial was left unspoken.  The anger quickly vanished.  He glanced away from Rogers towards the center of the battle, looking for some argument against that course.  But there was none.  He was injured.  His suit was damaged.  They’d have had to assign a bodyguard to him, and that was a fighter they simply didn’t have.  They’d inflicted casualties true.  But they’d taken them as well.  And those that were still operational were far from a hundred percent.</p><p>T’Challa looked back to Steve.  “I will help Mr. Lang reach safety,” he declared.</p><p>“Right,” Steve said, accepting that compromise gratefully.  “Sam,” he called, activating his comm “need a special delivery, priority: rush.”</p><p>“Roger that,” Falcon replied.  “There in thirty seconds or your money back,” he added as he swooped down on the unconscious form.  Drax saw him coming.  The blue berserker grabbed Lang by the back of his suit with one hand and chucked him in the air, whilst fending off two assailants with the other.  Then he went to help Bucky with Dwarf.</p><p>Falcon intercepted Lang with a muffled curse.  He knew Drax had been trying to help, but the barbarian clearly hadn’t considered that Sam would have trouble connecting a buddy strap to an unconscious person midair.  No doubt Drax could have held Lang with one hand to accomplish that task, but Falcon was not a supped-up alien.  Nor was he wearing strength increasing armor; he’d opted to stick with what he knew instead of trying to become proficient with an entirely different weapon system in a day.</p><p>It would have been a simple matter for him to land and cocoon Lang with his wings while he hooked him up. As it was Sam was forced to give up on the buddy strap completely, instead simply holding on to Lang as best he could as he blasted for the entrance.  That limited his acceleration which, in turn, made them easy targets.</p><p>He made it all of four meters before a blast impacted the underside of his right wing.  The blast was jarring enough to make him lose his hold on Lang and send him into a corkscrew.  Fortunately, Wanda was able to catch Lang and maneuver him over to the King.  But that left Falcon on his own. </p><p>He cocooned himself just before slamming into a knot of enemy soldiers.  The impact merely knocked them down, and cushioned his impact.  The grenades he left when he blasted back into the air did far more.</p><p>Wanda deposited Lang next to T’Challa.  By that point Lang was semi-conscious, so Panther righted him, slinging one arm over his shoulders for support. </p><p>“What’s up, Doc?” Lang slurred.</p><p>“It is time for us to go,” T’Challa explained, already moving them towards the exit.  Fortunately, Lang’s feat instinctively moved to keep up.</p><p>“Right,” Lang replied.  “I was having the weirdest dream,” he added as the crossed the threshold. </p><p>“Parker,” Steve called over the comms again.</p><p>“Yes, Captain Rogers?” Parker replied immediately, in a less than certain voice.</p><p>“We’ve got an injured pair making their way to the lifts.  Please see to it that they arrive.”</p><p>“Yes Mr. Rogers,” Peter replied uncertainly.  He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or disappointed.  On the one hand, Steve hadn’t been calling on him to intercede in the fighting.  That certainty that he’d be able to make a difference had long since evaporated, leaving behind only doubts.  Besides, who hopes that their side will fail?</p><p>But on the other hand, this was an escort mission.  He’d never played a game in his life with an escort mission that wasn’t frustrating.  Usually they were the most frustrating part of the game.  And they almost never gave you any decent loot. </p><p>Peter sighed.  “I love me some escort missions,” he muttered before swinging into action.  Fortunately, Karen had received the same directions as everyone else.  All he had to do was follow the glowing line.</p><p>Steve nodded to himself; the kid would get the job done with flying colors.  But that left one task yet to be completed before he could join Bucky in his assault on Black Dwarf.  As he’d been coordinating the fighting, he’d noted Proxima’s slow maneuvering their way, no doubt intent upon retrieving her homing spear. </p><p>She’d tried to disengage herself from her tormenters several times, but every time she had Nebula had tripped her up, grappled her, or in some way kept her from extricating herself.  Those maneuvers had not come without cost, it’s very hard to perform them against someone twice your size and weight without leaving yourself open to a counterattack.  If not for Gamora, and now Quill, any one of those attacks would have been the end of that angry woman.</p><p>Steve considered using the staff against her, but something someone -he couldn’t remember who- had said a long time ago resurfaced in his thoughts; ‘If you use a weapon against someone, you’d better be damned sure you know how to use it better than they do, or they’ll take it from you and ram it up your ass’ he’d said.  Not the most correct statement he’d ever heard, but it made sense.  And using a weapon not even sized correctly for him against the person it had been custom made for certainly seemed to be exactly the situation those callused words of wisdom had been meant for.</p><p>Instead, he grabbed the spear, turned, and cast it into the wall of the room T’Challa and Scott had just left through as hard as he could.  It pierced the metal armor of the walls with a horrendous screech, sinking nearly half way down the weapon’s haft.  Considering the generous increase to his strength provided by the armor he was hopeful that even Proxima would require some time to wrest it out of that hole.</p><p>As the rescue of Antman evolved, Tony was in the middle of another.  Even thrusting at one hundred and ten percent (not recommended by the manufacturer) Tony was barely able to intercede before Thor could finish Brunnhilde off.  As it was, only a well-timed disruptor blast was able to knock Thor off target.</p><p>Thor impacted the wall next to Brunnhilde and turned a spine shivering glare on Tony as he landed between the two Asgardians.  It wasn’t so much that Thor had glared at Tony that was threatening to unloose his bowls; Tony’d gotten glares from Thor many times.  What was unnerving was that there was nothing of his friend in that glare.  It was the glare of a feral animal.  The engineer took an involuntary step backwards as Thor stood, eyes glued to him.</p><p>Thor lunged hammer first at Tony, clearly his new target.  Tony dodged to the side and fired his repulsors to throw Thor’s trajectory off.  His previous engagement with Thor stood him in good stead.  He knew better than to try and block the hammer, instead focusing on the one wielding it.  Fortunately, Supergiant did not have the benefit of those memories.</p><p>Even still, it was a tough fight.  Supergiant may not have learned the lessons Thor had about fighting wily engineers in powered armor, but she knew exactly how to utilize Thor’s strength and durability to the maximum. </p><p>“Rhodes, buddy,” Tony called as he dodged that hammer again.  He had to restrain the impulse to attempt to break Thor’s wrist as it went by, instead repulsoring him away.  As terrified as he was, Tony knew he couldn’t risk injuring Thor.  If he crippled the Asgardian, Supergiant would simply move on to another of his friends.  And if they did get rid of her, they’d need Thor in fighting shape, not crippled.  He had to find a way to get his friend free of her influence.</p><p>“Yeah?” Rhodes grunted as he dodged a serrated appendage from the lesser child he was currently working on.</p><p>“You think you could do something about the puppet master?” Tony asked as Thor lunged at him again.</p><p>“And what exactly did you think I was doing, Tony?” Rhodes replied sarcastically as he hurled a six-legged minion into a pack.  “Strike!” he announced as the tangled mass fell over.  He was back in the air before they could recover themselves.</p><p>He made for Supergiant again, while scanning for any possible interference from below.  This was his fourth attempted run on the hooded figure; every time he started for her some minion or other would interpose itself in some manner.  That last, quite literally; it had jumped six meters into the air to grab Rhodes and drag him down to their level.  Before that some creature with a mechanical tentacle like appendage had actually lassoed him to the ground.  Before that he’d run into a hail of fire that had demanded his attention.  And each time Supergiant had sneered and moved further from his location.</p><p>It would have been a lot simpler if long range fire had any noticeable effect on her, but the one time he’d tried it she’d simply raised an arm to cover her face and otherwise ignored it.  There’d been no indication that her hold on Thor was weakening.  Missiles and slower projectiles were contemptuously batted aside.  No, if Rhodes was going to stop her marionette routine, he’d have to do it up close and personal.</p><p>But it had become quite clear to him that she knew that as well.  He’d have called for backup, but there simply wasn’t any.  As it was, the best he’d been able to manage was to maneuver her in a circle around the edge of the cavern.  At this point she couldn’t go much further without entering easy reach of one of his allies or another. </p><p>Apparently, she had another option; as Rhodes hit max thrust, she ripped one of the metal panels covering the cavernous dome off of the wall and hurled it at him.  Rhodes tried to dodge, but she’d timed the missile attack perfectly.  He was moving too fast in armor that was too heavy to alter his vector that quickly.  Additionally, as if he didn’t have enough problems to worry about, the projectile was tumbling in three direction, making it nearly impossible to blast onto a predictable trajectory.  Its curved surface didn’t exactly make any such option more viable either.  If he wasn’t careful, he’d actually end up blasting it in a way that made the thing harder to dodge.</p><p>All of these thoughts flashed through Rhodes’s head in a fraction of a second, along with one other; that this bitch was not getting away from him again.  Lacking any good choice, Rhodes opted to dive low and to the right of the wayward plate and trust his luck that he might time his passage with the tumble.</p><p>As they closed it became apparent that his luck was not that good, a fact that should have been glaring after Vision forehead beamed him in the back.  But he apparently had something better, because just prior to impact a missile streaked into the tumbling mass of metal from his right.  It impacted edge on, altering its trajectory up and to the left.</p><p>Rhodes backtracked the missile even as he corrected for the sudden altitude loss brought on by the explosion to see Wade fighting his way towards Supergiant.  He flashed the mercenary a quick thumbs up before grabbing another minion and hurling it at their hooded target.  Wade managed to return it while blindly lasering another minion.</p><p>“Hell of a shot,” Rhodes murmured admiringly as he followed his counter projectile.  As he reached the ten-meter mark he braked hard and fired his left concussion pulse.  Supergiant screamed in rage at having her fun cut short and staggered towards the hovering heavy suit.</p><p>Rhodes responded by keeping the concussion pulses up with his left hand while his right reached behind him to retrieve one of his stun clubs.  Then he advanced on the disoriented puppeteer.  He never actually made it to her.</p><p>As Supergiant’s scream echoed through the cavern Thor regained himself, as if the scream had cleared his mind instead of being the consequence of his freedom.  The joy at being free was short lived; his first sight was of Tony backed into a wall, arms raised defensively.  He could see where repeated hammer blows had already done significant damage to his friend’s armor.  It appeared that both palm repulsors had been shattered in the melee.  His helmet had been knocked off, and several dents in the armor were limiting its mobility.  But it was the already ripening bruises on Tony’s face that really got to Thor.</p><p>Thor looked up to see his hammer held over his head, prepared for a final strike, and snarled.  Then he launched himself at Supergiant as fast as he could fly; faster, in fact, than he’d ever managed before.  In his desperation to reach her before she could reassume control of him, he took the straightest path to her he could.  This was less than fortunate for the half dozen or so enemies that lay between him and his target.  He rammed through them like a one-ton bowling ball.</p><p>Tony relaxed his arms slightly and took a deep breath as Thor aborted his death blow.  Half a wry grin covered his bruised face.  “Typical,” he said referring to the last minute save.</p><p>Before Rhodes could close the gap, Thor slammed into Supergiant with a fury that startled him.  He’d seen the Asgardian annoyed, angry, furious, and everything in between.  But he’d never seen him enraged.  It was a terrifyingly awesome sight to behold.</p><p>Supergiant’s fixation on the thing that had interfered with her so kept her completely oblivious to Thor’s approach until it was too late.  Her face barely had time to lose the smug anticipatory look of sadistic glee before he was on her.  Thor bellowed in rage as he brought his hammer down on her head.  For him the entire struggle had devolved into this fight.  There was nothing else, no one else in the room.  Just the puppet and the puppeteer.  The very angry puppet.</p><p>He brought his hammer down upon her again and again.  Normally he’d have knocked her down and given her a chance to regain her footing before continuing his assault.  Not so this time.  She toppled and he was upon her, striking any target of opportunity he could find.  His predominant aim was her head, but he was okay with body blows, and even the crushing of limbs. </p><p>Rhodes altered his approach; Thor didn’t need, and wouldn’t appreciate, his help in this fight.  Instead he joined with Deadpool to keep the tides of minions rushing to her defense off of the enraged king.  </p><p>Proxima Midnight tried to reach them as well, but the trio she was already engaged with was having none of it.  Every time she attempted to disengaged herself Nebula, or Gamora, or even Quill would trip her up, grab her, get a good stunning shot on her, or in some way prevent the movement.  Those actions usually came at a price; it’s hard to perform such actions without leaving oneself open to counterattack.  And their respective armors were beginning to show the wear of this short fight. </p><p>Not that she wasn’t also showing signs of injury.  She was favoring her left leg, and side.  According to Nebula’s implant it was likely they’d torn something in the leg and shattered at least two ribs</p><p>Tony would have joined in the fight, but he was being kept quite busy defending Brunnhilde’s prone form.  He’d managed to remove her from the wall without causing any more damage; he couldn’t say the same for pain.  She’d groaned awake half way through the process, instinctively knocking him to the ground.  He’d picked himself up and managed to convince her he was helping before they became besieged. </p><p>Brunnhilde had done what she could to help, but she was too injured from her fight with her liege.  As near as Friday could discern she had several broken bones on the right side of her rib cage, where Thor’s hammer had connected.  Her left hand was broken, and there was some damage to her right foot.</p><p>From his vantage point at one end of the room Tony was able to take stock of the progress of the battle, when he wasn’t fighting skirmishes of his own.  All in all, it appeared that things were going well.  True, they’d lost several combatants in the fight but, surprisingly, none had been killed outright.  It was also true that every fighter they had left had been damaged to one degree or another.  But in return they’d managed to disable or kill roughly half of the lesser children, kill Corvus Glaive outright, and damage his fellows to varying degrees. </p><p>The trio consisting of Sergeant Barns, Captain Rogers, and Drax had inflicted serious wounds on Black Dwarf; clearly, he wasn’t used to fighting opponents that could actually return his attentions.  At one point it had appeared that he’d turned the tide; he’d managed to wrest the glaive from Barnes’s one-handed grasp.  It had turned out to be a short-lived victory. </p><p>Drax had drawn his attention while Bucky and Cap conspired to relieve him of it.  He was strong, but that strength was no match for two powered suits, particularly when they coordinated their attack.  Instead of going directly for the glaive Cap had slammed into the wrist holding it, twisting the arm towards his body.  At the same time Bucky delivered a full speed body check from below to the suddenly exposed inside of the beast’s elbow.  The twisting motion had not only forced Dwarf to release the weapon, but had actually slammed the head of the glaive into his leg, inflicting yet another wound.</p><p>Proxima Midnight was in the best shape, but being deprived of her staff had severely hampered her capabilities.  And those capabilities were well known to two of the three she was currently engaged with.</p><p>Further on, Thor was busily turning Supergiant into toothpaste.  Tony was fairly sure she was dead.  Honestly, he hoped she was; he wouldn’t wish what was being done to her body on anyone.  Not that he could blame his friend.</p><p>All in all, the battle was definitely going in their favor.  Suddenly, a thought passed through his head unbidden, that it was about time for a reversal of some sort.</p><p>And then it appeared.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>The Statesman</p><p> </p><p>Vision nearly collapsed as his mind confronted the awesome intensity of Thanos’s psyche.  It wasn’t simply the experiences of hundreds of years that he found difficult to confront.  It was also the amassed knowledge of the workings of the universe that came with it.  It was the hours spent mastering his various abilities.  It was the sadistic pleasure with which he tormented his victims.  The emotional charge he gained from being entirely in control of another being’s destiny.  The knowledge that he could dictate their course.</p><p>But he’d held on, knowing that if he failed, all on the Statesman would die.  He’d heard Heimdall and Rocket arguing about what to do next, and agreed with Heimdall completely.  A weaker being may have allowed a sufficient pain to distract their focus long enough for their mental defenses to crumble to the might of the Mind Stone.  But this was not a weaker being.  And Thanos was far from a stranger to pain.</p><p>Vision had seen into his past, seen Thanos as a young man, tormented and bullied by his fellow Eternals simply for having the Deviant gene.  He’d felt the helplessness and fear that stood at the core of what Thanos had become. </p><p>He was there when Thanos was told of the prophecy that he would end the universe, and that his own mother had tried to kill him at birth to prevent it.  He’d felt the hole in his being that self-doubt engendered.  He watched Thanos renounce violence in an attempt to prove himself to his father. </p><p>Yet, that self-doubt that he might become the monster left a hole in the core of his being.  He tried to fill it with family, but failed.  No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to stop himself from keeping them at arm’s length.  Vision watched Thanos blame himself for that failure, saw how that inwardly aimed anger strengthened his own doubts.</p><p>He saw the wraith like herald of Oblivion, Deathurge, attack Titan.  He’d already killed the Eternals on Uranus by cracking their city’s protective dome, exposing the occupants to vacuum.  He nearly succeeded on Titan as well, but only managed to open a small portion of the domed city to space thanks to emergency force barriers Thanos himself had designed and employed. </p><p>But that one section had been the sector Thanos’s family, along with nearly a hundred others, had resided in.  He watched as Thanos found the bodies of his family.  He felt the grief as Thanos suddenly realized his love for them, saw the bitter irony that Thanos could only discover that feeling as they were ripped away from him.  He watched Thanos’s anger as it turned outward towards the cause of his loss.  But he knew that Deathurge was simply a herald, the symptom but not the cause.</p><p>Vision saw Thanos leaving his home that was no longer a home in search of knowledge, a way to end Oblivion.  He saw how that search twisted into a thirst for power, an unquenchable need to gather enough ability to do the impossible: kill an avatar of the universe.</p><p>He watched Thanos return to Titan nearly a hundred years later, in search of aid.  But all he found was resistance.  Fear.  They feared him.  They feared the consequences to the universe if he should succeed.  They feared his prophecy.</p><p>They vowed to stop him.</p><p>But Thanos had spent seven decades amassing power; he murdered them all.  He smote the entire city from the face of Saturn’s largest moon.  And in that destruction he found grief again.  As he stared at that smoking hole he saw the truth, that he would only ever truly know how he felt about anything once it was gone.</p><p>Thanos continued on, determined to stay his course.  Yet, his obsession with power became all encompassing.  There was nothing else, only the need for power.  It infiltrated his very existence.  Without his noticing it, it stopped being a means to an end, became the end itself.  His obsession demanded the exercise of power.  To control others was proof of power.  To control their fates was an ultimate form of power.</p><p>The children of Thanos were created.</p><p>Vision shied from the perverse ways that obsession manifested itself.  He couldn’t afford empathy at this time.  In this, even Vision found himself caught up in the need for power.</p><p>Moving on.  Vision saw Thanos meet the avatar of death.  He saw immediately that the commonly held belief that she worked with oblivion was a lie, saw that they were opposing forces.  Saw that Oblivion would starve her of her purpose, her very being.</p><p>A deal was struck.</p><p>For the price of half of the life in the universe Death would gain enough power to eliminate Oblivion.  Thanos’s obsession now had direction.</p><p>Vision wasn’t entirely sure just how many hundreds of years those memories encompassed; they all hit him at once.  He felt like a drowning man trying to drink a tidal wave.  Any organic brain would have shut down at that onslaught.  But Vision was accustomed to absorbing massive quantities of information; and his brain cells were coated with Vibranium.</p><p>Vision understood the insanity that drove Thanos.  The path he’d walked was as clear as a lit highway.  He suspected that that path had been deliberately manipulated by someone, to what end he wasn’t sure.  Even so, Thanos would not care.  He was the path.  There was no turning back, no stopping.  He would destroy Oblivion if he could, and damn the consequences to the universe.</p><p>In some respects, Vision felt sorry for Thanos, for what he’d become.  His all-consuming desire for power had stopped being a tool of his revenge and become his own master.  He would take his revenge, but that would not satisfy him, for what he required now was not vengeance but power.  The pursuit and accumulation of power had been his only concern for hundreds of years.  But how do you slake that thirst once you’ve attained godhood?  How much more powerful can you become when you’ve destroyed a vestige of the universe?  And who could you demonstrate that power on?  Who is worthier?</p><p> Vision could see the end of Thanos’s path even clearer than the Mad Titan could, but he dared not allow pity, or worse yet: compassion, weaken his resolve.  The fact that Thanos was running headlong at the top of a cliff was irrelevant; they still could not sit back and watch as he made the jump.</p><p>But layered underneath everything else was Thanos’s will.  Standing in its way was like trying to catch a mountain.  It could possibly be resisted, it could not be stopped or avoided.  He could not conceive of any psyche that could withstand Thanos’s implacable will for more than a short time.</p><p>Vision held on as long as possible, fighting for every second he could give the others, but from the moment their minds had linked he’d known who would emerge from this contest victorious.  He could feel his strength weakening like a draining cistern. </p><p>What’s worse he could feel Thanos’s amusement at his resistance.  As the fight became more lopsided that amusement increased.  His psyche was feeding off of the domination of another mind.  In truth he could have ended the contest quicker, but that would have deprived him of that rush.</p><p>All Vision could hope to accomplish was to keep Thanos busy long enough for Heimdall’s plan to be implemented.  He’d managed to distract the Mad Titan early in the fight, keeping him from hearing the formation of that suicidal plan . . . he hoped.  All he had to do was hold on a little longer.</p><p>He couldn’t; growing bored of this contest Thanos thrust Vision’s mind out away from him violently.  The power of that force stunned the construct momentarily.  Vision’s hand slipped away from Thanos’s face, his body continuing to fall until it landed on one knee. </p><p>Vision looked up at the purple gorilla towering over him in a dazed fog.  He knew he should do something.  There was something he was supposed to do, but he couldn’t figure out what.  He wondered idly if this was what it felt like to be drunk.  If so, he could see no reason why anyone would wish to inflict this state upon themselves. </p><p>Before he could regain himself the red jewel on Thanos’s gauntlet glowed.  A set of shiny black stocks composed of pure neutronium sprang out of the deck, pinning Vision at the wrists and neck as it went.  The construct tried to force his way free.  In response the holes pinning his body shrunk even more.  The stock rose even higher until it brought Vision face to face with Thanos’s smirking grin.</p><p>Vision tried to phase out of the impromptu stock, but something stopped him.  Some force was keeping his molecules from shifting.  At first, he thought it might have been resistance from the material of his sudden prison.  But eventually he realized that Thanos was telekinetically holding him in place.  The Mad Titan’s grin increased as he saw that realization betray itself in Vision’s face along with the knowledge that Heimdall had been correct. </p><p>He shouldn’t have intervened.</p><p>“He’s free!” Rocket squawked unnecessarily as the stock formed itself around Vision.  Then he scrambled for his guns.   Thanos’s grin increased at the alarm in that voice.  Then he reached out, calmly as if picking an apple from the branch, and ripped the mind stone from Vision’s head.</p><p>The construct went limp in the stock.  While not physically harmed, the sudden removal of half of his self was incredibly disorienting.  He couldn’t focus.  He couldn’t move.  He couldn’t even think.</p><p>His first clear thought was the realization that he was no longer Vision; he was just Jarvis once again.  He felt . . . smaller.  He managed to look up at Thanos.</p><p>The Mad Titan was still grinning sadistically at him as Heimdall’s sword arced down on his head.  But at the last minute Thanos stepped to the side.  The sword impacted the stock directly above Jarvis’s head.  The strike had two effects; the first was to fill the room with an awful hum, as if a bent tuning fork had been struck.  The second was to break the last six inches off of Heimdall’s sword.  The strike was with such force that the piece careened about the room before finally embedding itself within an already sputtering console.  The stock was unharmed.</p><p>The ensuing fight was far briefer than the prior.  They were simply not prepared for round two.  Heimdall was already seriously injured.  The Hulk was defeated and sulking.  Banner’s suit was damaged before they started, not to mention his near ineptness at utilizing it.  Rocket’s guns had been pushed out of reach while he attempted to rewire a bridge console.  Groot was in the dispensary. </p><p>Mantis had joined them, but that was of limited use.  Her fighting skills were negligible in present company.  And if Jarvis couldn’t contain Thanos with the help of the Mind Stone then the odds that she might have any effect were unmentionable.  Mostly she acted as an airbag for whomever Thanos was tossing around.</p><p>Thanos killed none of them, that would have ended the fun too soon, but he systematically damaged each.  He ensured they couldn’t resist whatever he chose to do to them.  As it was, he was seriously considering conscription for a few.  Which few was the next question.  Of course, he’d have to kill a few in front of the others as a lesson to the survivors.  He surveyed the scene, mentally placing each into one of two columns.</p><p>Banner lay unconscious in his shattered suit; there was some definite potential there.  But control could be an issue.  Mantis was crumpled into a corner, cowering; he could see no use for her.  Rocket had been installed in the center of the forward viewscreen; only his legs and tail protruded from the thoroughly wrecked device.  He doubted the racoon could be tamed, and his knowledge of engineering made him dangerous. </p><p>He turned to see Heimdall, shattered as he was, trying to make it to his sword.  The Asgardian was a definite keeper.  There was something incredibly attractive about twisting Thor’s right-hand man against him.  He anticipated the day he threw them at each other with great excitement.  It was entirely possible that forcing him to confront both Heimdall and Loki at the same time could break Thor’s will without a fight.</p><p>But that was to be seen in the future.  Currently he had executions to conclude. </p><p>Jarvis’s voice stopped him.  “You cannot win,” Jarvis warned him.  “It is in your nature.”</p><p>Thanos stopped in utter incomprehension of that statement before circling back to face the maroon construct.  His face reemployed the smirk.  “Really?” he asked in amusement.  “And what data might you be basing that assessment on?” he asked, telekinetically sliding Heimdall’s sword from his grasp.  The Asgardian gave up the chase, instead choosing to lay on the deck and conserve what little energy he had left.  “Because from where I’m standing you seem to be the one with an issue in that department.”</p><p>Jarvis gave the best attempt at a shrug the limited confines of his stock would allow.  “Perhaps,” he replied evenly “but the obsession with power inevitably leads to its use.  That use creates enemies.  The greater the power the greater the number of enemies.  You would have the entire universe oppose you.”</p><p>Thanos’s smirk spread into a grin.  “They have for some time,” he replied.  He leaned closer, face completely serious.  “I could crush you like the bug you are, right now,” he threatened, reaching out an open maw of a hand towards Jarvis.  “What possible threat could you be to me?”</p><p>“You may kill me,” Jarvis admitted evenly “but I am only one out of the legions of your enemies.  They are assembling, even now.” </p><p>Thanos leaned in closer.  “And what have your feeble alliances accomplished?” he asked, gloating in his superiority.  “They are discordant and unfocused.  They spend as much time fighting each other as they do their enemies.  Their best efforts have only served to delay me, a minor annoyance.”</p><p>“Because you are powerful?” Jarvis asked pointedly.</p><p>“Because I have the will to use power,” Thanos corrected.  “I do not shy from it.  I impose my will on others.  You, you fear power.”</p><p>“There is more than one type of power,” Jarvis replied.  “You will never taste the power of cooperation.  It will be your ending.”</p><p>Thanos grinned a surprisingly bittersweet grin, as if Jarvis had touched a painful memory.  “I once thought as you do,” he said eventually in an almost wistful voice.  “I once believed there was such a thing as good and evil.  I once believed that evil would always be punished.”</p><p>“But there is no good or evil,” he continued his voice gaining strength.  “There are only winners and losers.  And the only difference separating them is as simple as their commitment to power.  I am committed as you and your friends will never be.  That is why I will win.  And when I have you will all serve me as a down payment on vengeance.”</p><p>“No matter what happens you will not experience your victory,” Jarvis warned.  “You will find yourself with no one to exercise your power on.  You will be a conqueror with nothing worthy of conquest.”</p><p>Thanos’s eyes narrowed in uncertainty at that statement, but only momentarily.  He shook his head, as if to clear it.  “For a being named Vision you have a decided lack thereof,” he replied arrogantly.</p><p>Again, Jarvis shrugged in his confinement.  He forwent the argument of his identity; it would have only served to point out the lack of power he currently held over the current situation.  Instead he said “No one sees the flaws in their own vision.  It is natural that we should filter them out, hide them from ourselves.”</p><p>Thanos leaned closer to Jarvis until his menacing countenance filled the constructs view.  “Perhaps I won’t kill you,” he replied in a dreadfully thoughtful tone.  “Perhaps you will be the witness to my victory.  You will bear my . . . my Vision,” he added with amusement.  He opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped as a voice spoke over his comm link to the Sanctuary.</p><p>“Report,” he commanded the voice.</p><p>“My lord,” a voice laced with trepidation replied “the battle does not go well.  Your enemies will most likely secure the power stone.”</p><p> “I see,” Thanos said disapprovingly.  “I will deal with it.”  He glanced back at Jarvis.  “It would seem my presence is required elsewhere.  Don’t get up,” he added sarcastically.  “I’ll see myself out.”</p><p>“Problems?” Jarvis asked pointedly.  “Perhaps, an issue with a feeble alliance?”</p><p>Thanos cast a hard look at the construct.  “Merely another delay, I assure you,” he replied in a deliberately calm voice.  Despite his efforts there was an undertone of irritation to it.</p><p>“Careful,” Jarvis cautioned “impatience is the mother of mistakes.”  As he’d hoped, his interruption again stalled the Titan.  Thanos was a being in need of control of everything, including the conversation.</p><p>Thanos glared at Jarvis.  Then suddenly, as if changing his mind, his expression changed to one of anticipation.  “Perhaps you’re correct,” he replied.  “I have a little time.  And it would be improper of me to leave without repaying you your hospitality,” he added menacingly.  His eyes swept across the room, searching for something.  They stopped on Heimdall’s broken body.  Truly an appropriate statement</p><p>He would have preferred his original plan to utilize Heimdall as an instrument of Thor’s destruction, but this would have to suffice.  He telekinetically lifted Heimdall’s sword into the air.  It flew to a spot above the Asgardian.  Heimdall tracked the movement with his head, knowing what was coming. </p><p>As the sword stopped above him Heimdall rolled painfully over onto his back.  He doubted he could catch the sword as it plunged downwards, but he would try.  And if that plan of action proved futile at least he would face his death instead of cowering from it.  He’d been taught since he was a boy that how one faced death was the truest measure of the man he was.  Perhaps it was small comfort, but he would not shrink now from the life he’d lived.</p><p>Jarvis struggled against his bonds futilely, in a desperate bid to stop the very thing he’d sacrificed the mind stone for.  When that failed, he tried to phase through the matter again.  It no longer felt as if he was being held, yet he could not seem to find the ability in himself.  It was as if he’d forgotten an instinct.  He searched his memories for a feeling, or a thought that might help.  Was it an ability of the mind stone?  He didn’t think so.  It could have been a combination of the stone and the vibranium in his body.  Whatever it was it was beyond his reach.  He was powerless to intervene.</p><p>The sword rotated slowly, wasting several sadistic seconds, until it was pointed at the massive Asgardian’s chest.  “Any final statement?” Thanos asked gloatingly.  Heimdall refused to respond.</p><p>Then the sword plunged through its target, up to the hilt.  Heimdall tried to catch it as it came, but his body was so damaged by the previous battles that he barely got his arms off the ground before it connected.</p><p>A groan escaped his lips as it impaled his chest.  Then there was a terrible shrieking sound as the Asgardian sword twisted ninety degrees, rending a whole in the deck plate.  So fast was the movement that Heimdall’s body barely twisted at all.  He made a choking sound, as blood slipped from his lips.  Then those gifted eyes closed.</p><p>Thanos turned back to Vision.  “I trust I’ve been patient enough?” he asked sadistically.</p><p>Jarvis knew what the appropriate response was.  He knew he should taunt the monster into killing them all, buying time for their friends on the ground to complete their mission.  In the cold calculation of military tactics there truly was no choice to make.</p><p>But he also knew Thanos would not kill him until last, if then.  It would be just like the sadist to let Jarvis live with the knowledge that he’d caused their deaths.  He couldn’t bring himself to condemn everyone on the ship just to gain, at best, a few minutes.  Besides, it was doubtful he’d actually waste enough time for the ground team to succeed anyways.</p><p>“Well?” Thanos asked expectantly.</p><p>Jarvis looked down at the deck plate at Thanos’s feet.  Thanos was asking him to choose who would live and who would die.  Once such a choice would have simply been a matter of mathematics for him.  Derive the value of each person’s contributions to the cause; make a choice.  But that was before he’d been given a life of his own.</p><p>That was before he’d made that choice for Heimdall.  No matter what happened now he’d caused the death of someone.  If he continued, he might just end up throwing good money after bad.  But if he failed, he made the Asgardian’s death worthless.</p><p>Thanos watched the war play against Jarvis’s face.  He relished the helplessness, the despair that wafted off of the construct.  “A little taste of power,” he gloated, then he was gone in a beam of blue light.</p><p>Mantis wasted no time.  The light had barely gone before she was on her feet.  She stopped briefly to check on Banner, as he was on her way to Heimdall.  She lay a hand on his exposed forehead long enough to determine that he was only in a deep state of unconsciousness before moving on.</p><p>Heimdall was a different case.  She felt a great sorrow as she touched his forehead.  She’d liked the stoic warrior; she’d admired the way he was so in control of his emotions.  She’d always had better control of other people’s emotions than her own.</p><p>But now he was dead.  And it had been a futile death, a waste.  It served no purpose other than to fuel the petty cruelty of a monster.  Despite her better judgement she found herself lingering over the man’s body.</p><p>“Mantis,” Jarvis called eventually.  “We have little time; Thanos’s ship will be coming.”</p><p>She nodded agreement, but still failed to move.   She took Heimdall’s hands and placed them on his sword, covering the tang shaped tunnel in his chest.  Then she rose to check on Rocket.</p><p>She wiped her eyes as she hurried over to the viewscreen.  Rocket was imbedded too high for her to reach, nor did she want to simply jump up and drag him out of the hole his body had created; that would undoubtedly cause more injury.</p><p>Looking around she spotted a piece of console that had been torn from the wall.  She dragged it over to the viewscreen, quickly clambering on top.</p><p>The console provided the necessary height but was somewhat lacking in stability.  It became a delicate balancing act to stand up and get a cautious grip on Rocket’s body to lift him out of the hole.</p><p>The moment she touched him his right leg kicked her in the jaw reflexively.  She toppled from her makeshift stool like a bag of flour.</p><p>“Rocket, it’s just me,” she yelled as she worked herself back into a sitting position.</p><p>Rocket’s muffled voice came through the remnants of the screen.  “How was I supposed to know that?” he demanded.</p><p>“It is doubtful that Thanos would have lifted you gently from your impromptu perch,” Jarvis commented dryly from around his encasement. </p><p>“What are the odds he’d leave you with a tongue?” Rocket muttered sullenly.  Despite his efforts Jarvis had no problem hearing the space rodent’s sarcastic return; for the sake of peace he chose to ignore it.</p><p>“Okay Rocket,” Mantis called nervously as she got back into place “I’m going to try lifting you out of the screen.  Please, do not kick me.”  Rocket twitched his irritation, but remained silent.  The indignity of having to be got down in the first place was definitely contributing to his mood.  Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice; his non-kicking leg had been hurt by the blow that had landed him here in the first place.  He couldn’t tell if it was broken or not, but he knew better than to test it with a fifteen-foot vertical drop.</p><p>Mantis edged back up onto the teetering console carefully.</p><p>“I would point out that time is of the essence,” Jarvis reminded her again.</p><p>“I know,” she muttered back as she fearfully worked her hands under the space rodent’s body.  She had no idea what injuries Rocket might have sustained during the two battles on the ship.  Visions of her ripping half of him out of the hole, or removing him from something that was keeping him from bleeding out kept danced through her head.</p><p>“Just pull me out,” Rocket growled impatiently as she hesitated.</p><p>“Okay,” she replied still sounding uncertain.  She took a deep breath and lifted, nearly toppling off of her makeshift ladder; he was heavier than he looked.</p><p>She caught herself against the broken screen and tried again, this time managing to remove the oversized racoon.  In order to do so she’d been forced to yank, more than lift, him out.  She nearly lost her balance as she caught the sixty-three-pound passenger.</p><p>“See, that was easy,” Rocket replied impatiently as she tried to balance the extra weight.  “Now put me down,” he demanded.</p><p>“Uh,” Mantis replied as another overcorrection alleviated her of her balance irrevocably. </p><p>“No not that way,” Rocket cried as gravity took hold.  They tumbled to the ground in a tangled mass, Rocket cursing the whole way.</p><p>Jarvis listened to his spiel, half in interest at its complexity and scope, and half in irritation.  Eventually he ran out of patience.  “Perhaps you’d prefer it back in your hole,” he called out pointedly.</p><p>“You saw that,” Rocket demanded as he extricated himself from her.  There was some slight trouble involving his fur and one of her antennae but he was eventually free.  “She did that on purpose,” Rocket insisted as he began walking towards the crumpled console.  After a couple of steps he switched to a three-legged gate and continued on.  He made it over to it and plopped himself back down amidst the rubble.</p><p>“Can you finish the adapter?” Jarvis asked, forgoing the ridiculousness of that assertion.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Rocket replied with a wave as if their successful escape was of little concern to him.  “Fortunately, we didn’t put up much a fight the second time,” he muttered.  “Psycho boy didn’t have a chance to wreck it worse,” he added darkly, plugging a couple of cables back into his makeshift console.  “Why’d he leave anyways?” Rocket asked curiously, without looking up from his work.</p><p>“I can only surmise that our friends were close to securing their goal,” Jarvis.  Rocket looked up and chuckled to himself.  “This amuses you?” Jarvis asked, confused.</p><p>“No,” Rocket replied, trying desperately to keep a lid on his laughter “but from this angle it looks like your talking with your ass!”  It really wasn’t that funny but for some reason Rocket could not stop laughing.  He did his best to contain the emotion.  Unfortunately, the harder he tried to fight it the greater the impulse to break out in hysterical giggles became.  The only upside was that he was fully capable of working and giggling relentlessly.</p><p>“I’m glad you find my position amusing,” Jarvis replied dryly.</p><p>“And to think, I’ve always said you lacked a sense of humor,” Rocket replied through a grin.</p><p>“You’ve barely known me for four days,” Jarvis reminded him.</p><p>“You really need to learn to laugh once in a while,” Rocket said as he flipped his tablet right side up and began entering commands.  “Keeps you from heart complications.”</p><p>“Perhaps it’s simply not funny,” Jarvis suggested.</p><p>“I bet if you could see you from my angle you’d disagree,” Rocket replied absentmindedly.  Ironically the humor in his little joke hadn’t lasted as long as the argument about why it was funny.</p><p>“I once saw a strange movie about a pet detective that would talk in that manner,” Jarvis replied.  “I failed to see the humor in it.”</p><p>“Maybe you really do lack a sense of humor,” Rocket suggested.</p><p>“I have a sense of humor,” Jarvis replied.</p><p>“Hey if your planet makes this joke, I’m just saying, maybe you’re the problem.”</p><p>“The movie was made for children,” Jarvis added tactically.</p><p>Rocket didn’t respond, unless you counted the distracted grunt he emitted upon realizing how he’d been colloquially maneuvered.  On the other side of the partition Jarvis displayed what appeared to be a triumphant grin at finally getting the excitable racoon to shut up.  It was a short-lived silence.</p><p>“Alright,” Rocket said a few seconds later “we should be good to go.”</p><p>“You don’t sound entirely sure,” Mantis commented from where she’d remained seated after her tumble.</p><p>“What?” Rocket asked.  “No, no, it’ll be fine,” he added before anyone could respond.  “Okay,” he added a moment later “there is a slight chance that I may have input the wrong mass calculations into the generator.”</p><p>“What does that mean?” she asked, a concerned frown creasing her alien face.</p><p>“The hyperspace window would likely be too small, meaning that entry would collapse it and convert our vessel to energy.  Conversely, if it were too big the tidal forces would rend the ship into pieces no larger than your head,” Jarvis explained.</p><p>“Oh,” Mantis replied, deflated.  “What exactly does ‘slight chance’ mean?” she asked.</p><p>“Does it matter?” Rocket asked incredulously.  “You want to stay here?”</p><p>She frowned.  “No, but I don’t want to be rent into pieces or turned into energy either,” she replied.</p><p>“Oh, well in that case we’ll just go with our third option,” Rocket growled.  “Oh, wait, that’s right; we don’t have a third option!” he added.</p><p>“I just wanted to know the odds Rocket,” Mantis shot back.</p><p>“She wants to know the odds!” Rocket exclaimed throwing his arms in the air.</p><p>“There is nothing wrong with wanting to enter a situation with one’s eyes open,” Jarvis chastised him.</p><p>Rocket split a look that suggested their brains had fallen out of their left ears equally between them.  “Fine,” he said finally.  “There’s a sixty three percent chance that the hyperspace window will be within acceptable tolerances.  Are our eyes all open now?”</p><p>Jarvis frowned; he’d expected the cybernetically enhanced racoon to get much closer to optimum.  “That would seem to be a bit more than a slight chance,” he observed.</p><p>“Do you want to do it?” Rocket demanded holding the screen towards Jarvis’s hindquarters.</p><p>“It would seem advisable,” Jarvis replied, before falling silent.  He searched his memory for the mass figures, but could not find it.  He knew he’d reviewed them while they were fixing the ship.  He could picture that moment, but it was as if the numbers themselves were deliberately evading him.  Each time he would reach out with his mind to grasp one it would dance away.  Apparently, the loss of his bhindi had affected more than his ability to phase through matter.</p><p>Nor would making an educated guess provide any better result.  There was more than just the mass of the ship to worry about.  The equations also required the mass of the engines themselves, the sizes of the apertures that would create the hyperspace windows, and the densities of the various parts of the ship.  Any guess Jarvis might make would be based solely on what he’d learned in the past week.  Rocket, on the other hand, could draw on a lifetime’s experience of stealing random spaceships.</p><p>“Well?” Rocket asked tauntingly, wiggling the tablet at Jarvis for emphasis.</p><p>Jarvis shook his head slowly.  “I cannot locate the relevant data at the moment,” he admitted quietly.</p><p>“Hah!” Rocket replied, flipping the tablet back around and punching commands into it.</p><p>“Wait,” Mantis, said coming over to them.  “Are we still going to use the drive?” she asked disbelievingly.</p><p>“A writer once wrote,” Jarvis replied evenly “that when there is no choice only a fool refuses a chance.”</p><p>“Right, whatever,” Rocket replied.  That studied nonchalance at the risk they were running, was not in evidence as he found it necessary to take a deep breath and close his eyes before hitting the engage button.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Double Edged Swords</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Xandar Prime</p><p>Vault</p><p> </p><p>Tony now knew how Ray Stantz must have felt; that pessimistic thought was still echoing through his mind as a flash of blue light filled the cavern.</p><p>The light faded quickly, leaving a figure behind.  It was not a figure any of them had any interest in seeing at this juncture.  Ironically Thanos’s minions seemed even more disturbed by his arrival than his enemies; no doubt there would be consequences for not having readily crushed their opponents.</p><p>And, in his right hand glistened a small yellow stone.  Despite the dire turn the situation had taken Tony couldn’t help but worry about the friend he’d literally made so long ago.</p><p>An evil grin of anticipation spread across Thanos’s face as he surveyed the battlefield.  Tony’s heart fell as that look registered.  He didn’t know what the Mad Titan saw in that scene, but he was certain it would bode less than well for them.  It certainly wasn’t the course the battle had taken up till this point.  The Avengers and Friends had clearly begun the process of mopping up the field.  Yet he was clearly gloating.  It nagged at one part of Tony’s mind just as Parker’s comments about missing something pulled at another.  No doubt he’d have figured it out with enough time to ponder.  He wasn’t given it.</p><p>Thanos’s eyes came to rest on Tony as he held his gauntleted hand over his head.  Again, the Tesseract flashed.  But, instead of emitting bolts of lightning, or sending someone to visit a random neutron star, it emitted a pulse of energy so powerful it could be seen with the naked eye.</p><p>Tony knew exactly what that pulse was.  He winced in self-recrimination as he realized what they’d been missing.  There was even a parable about putting all of one’s eggs in the same basket.</p><p>The electro-magnetic pulse washed over the battlefield, affecting allies and enemies alike.  Most of Thanos’s minions suddenly found themselves without the use of their augments.  That loss effectively neutralized some of them.  It seemed to outright kill the ones with cerebral augments.  Others were only minorly inconvenienced.  Such was the pulse’s power that even those without augments were stunned momentarily.</p><p>But, if the effects of the pulse were detrimental to Thanos’s minions, they were devastating to their enemies; nearly all of them were wearing powered armor run by electronics.  Of course, Tony had installed countermeasures in all of his suits.  They were basically a reverse Faraday cage.  Instead of simply distributing any pulse around the object, his shielding was preceded by an array of conductive elements.  The pulse would hit the conductor, creating a localized charge.  The charge would hit the cage at the leading edge of any EMP, creating their own magnetic field.  The charge would then be fed into a capacitor for future use by conductors behind the cage.  In effect, the stronger the pulse, the stronger the counter magnetic field that was generated.  It was how his suit absorbed Thor’s lighting.</p><p>It wasn’t a perfect defense of course; his countermeasures were fully capable of protecting a suit from any EMP up to double that created by the most powerful nuclear bomb Earth had ever built at ground zero.  That was assuming the suit itself could survive such a blast, which they couldn’t . . .  yet.</p><p>But he’d never anticipated an EMP of this intensity.  Up until now it was believed impossible to create a pulse of such magnitude that it actually affected living beings.</p><p>And so, he’d gone and wrapped his nifty armor around nearly the entire team.  He silently cursed the pig-headed superiority complex that had driven that decision as he watched members of the team fall out of the sky.  The pulse knocked Wanda unconscious where she was hovering, and there was no one to catch her.  Falcon and Quill, suddenly without thrust, found themselves plowing into the ground. </p><p>Falcon was able to hit his quick disconnect and push off from the wings he’d trusted for so long, but he still hit the ground hard.  If it hadn’t been for the kindly minion that broke his fall he’d most likely have been incapacitated.  The only thing that saved Quill was the reactive armor jacket he wore; apparently it needed no supervision or electricity to spread the force of impacts out.</p><p>Everyone on the ground had the good fortune to only find themselves trapped within several hundred pounds of personal prison.  While several of those occupants were probably strong enough to move while wearing the suits -albeit extremely awkwardly- there was no way they could overcome the servos that had most definitely locked up.  The only person that might have been capable of limited movement was Nebula, but he had no idea if the suit had protected her artificial arm sufficiently for such a task.  He wasn’t even sure if the suit had protected her implant from the destructive wave; mixed feelings there. </p><p>Thor was the only one who seemed completely unaffected by the pulse; considering the charges he usually dealt with, that wasn’t entirely surprising.  Fortunately, he seemed to realize that, even with his hammer, he couldn’t defeat Thanos on his own.  Instead, he hung back, preparing to intercede if necessary, knowing that all he might accomplish was to delay whatever monstrousness he interrupted.</p><p>Tony attempted to cock his head, banging it into the inside of his immobilized helmet in the process, as a black figure made a controlled landing at the edge of his vision.  He should have realized that Rhodes would still be functional.  Still, with Thor that made a total of two combat capable units to fight off a Thanos.  Assuming Banner’s help, they’d had twice that number on the Statesman.  Clearly that had not gone over well because here Thanos was, holding the maroon construct’s borrowed bhindi in his massive fist.</p><p>And on top of all of that, a good portion of the lights in the room had been destroyed by the pulse, casting them all into a gloom that left the imagination with far too much freedom.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Peter was about half way back to that accursed elevator with his charges when that same pulse caught up with them.  It was all well and good for Mr. Stark to call him a reserve, but this was an escort mission.  Granted, his charges weren’t nearly as useless as those found in most video games, but still, it wasn’t action.  It was walking.  Sometimes it was carrying.  He could do that back home.  The idea that he would come all the way to an alien planet for relocation duties seemed somehow . . . anticlimactic.</p><p>Not to mention slow.  He managed to keep that thought to himself as he watched the two men limp their way across one of the smaller rooms he’d encountered.  At first, he’d tried to help them, but they’d waved him off.  So instead he’d picked positions as they went to keep watch as they made their slow way through.  By his estimate they’d barely passed the halfway point on this little trek. </p><p>He couldn’t help but wonder what was happening behind them.  He was just toying with the idea of calling Mr. Stark on the suit comms when his spider sense started tingling.  A moment later his HUD flickered.  It was a brief, but surprisingly disconcerting glitch, particularly since Mr. Stark’s suit had never glitched before.</p><p>“Karen?” he asked, addressing the suit’s AI.</p><p>“I believe we were just intersected by a powerful electro-magnetic pulse,” The suit replied.</p><p>“Are you all right?” Peter asked.</p><p>“Yes,” the suit responded.  “The field was not powerful enough to damage any of my electronics.  The brief interruption you experienced was interference caused by the magnetic field.  However,” she added, as an afterthought “based on the field’s curvature I do not believe we were near its source.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s good,” Peter replied.  “Wait, did you say we weren’t near its source?” he asked as that afterthought caught up to him.</p><p>“Yes,” she affirmed.</p><p>“And it would have been stronger at the source,” Peter added, more as an extension of her statement than a question.  A bad feeling was starting to form in the pit of his everything.</p><p>“Yes,” Karen affirmed again.</p><p>“Is that all you can say?” Peter asked with a slight grin as the course of their conversation reminded him of another old movie.  Or perhaps, he reflected, he just didn’t want to ask the question he knew he should ask.</p><p>“No,” the AI replied, somehow managing to sound amused in that one syllable word.</p><p>“Is there a problem?” T’Challa asked, startling Peter.  While they’d been talking the two men had managed to work their way across the room.  Normally he’d have moved into the corridor ahead of them to make sure it was clear before now.</p><p>“Yes, I think so,” Peter responded.  “A big one,” he added.  “Karen, what direction did that pulse come from?” he asked.  “And how powerful would it have been at its source?” he added.</p><p>“I believe the pulse originated from the room Mr. Stark is in,” she answered.  “It would probably have been strong enough to disable even his suit,” she added, not quite answering the question he’d asked.  He passed that by.  It may not have been the answer to his question, and it certainly was not the answer he’d wanted to hear, but it did shortcut a couple of steps.</p><p>It also added some complications to his little escort mission.  The only thing he knew of in that room that could cause a pulse like that would by a fission reactor on critical overload.   A fission reactor like the ones powering Mr. Stark’s suits.  And if one of the suits had gone critical, he had to get back there.  Any suit not destroyed by the blast would have been paralyzed.</p><p>“Guys, can you make it on your own?” he asked.</p><p>“Wait, what’s going on?” Scott demanded, holding one hand out in a stop gesture.</p><p>“I think one of Mr. Stark’s suit’s fission generators went critical,” Peter said.</p><p>The two older men glanced at each other.  “What makes you suspect this?” T’Challa asked.</p><p>“Because of the electro-magnetic pulse that just passed us,” Peter said shortly.  If he was right there wasn’t much time.</p><p>“What, what pulse?”  Lang asked.  “What are you talking about kid?” he asked.</p><p>“The pulse that . . .” Peter started before cutting his high-pitched whine off.  He took a quick, less than calming breath, and tried to look at the situation from their perspective.  T’Challa had no electronics he was aware of, and Lang wasn’t wearing his helmet.  Neither of them would have any idea that anything might have just gone catastrophically wrong.  Most likely they thought he was just spinning webs in hopes of getting to go to the party.</p><p>Peter’s eyes fell to the buttons on Scott’s suit gloves.  They should have been glowing red.  Right now, they were dead.  “Try using your suit,” he ordered.</p><p>Scott’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “What?  Why?” he asked.</p><p>“Just do it,” Peter insisted.</p><p>Lang glanced again at T’Challa, gaining a noncommittal shrug for his trouble.  “Alright fine,” he said holding his hand in front of him.  “This is a complete waste of time,” he muttered before pressing the button.  Nothing happened.  He pressed it again, clearly operating on the common belief that if something didn’t work you just weren’t doing it hard enough. </p><p>“No, no, no, no,” he said as he continued pressing the button rapidly.  After the seventh or eighth try he stopped and looked back at Peter.  “I can fix this,” he said.</p><p>“Now?  With no tools?” Peter asked pointedly.</p><p>“His suit could have been damaged in combat,” T’Challa pointed out, ignoring that last.</p><p>“That wouldn’t have caused my systems to flicker, and it wouldn’t have made my AI report an extremely powerful pulse originating from your combat area,” Peter said.</p><p>“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lang replied waving both hands in front of him.  “Why would this hypothetical pulse knock my suit out and not yours?  And please, kid, don’t try to tell me it’s because you were further away.”</p><p>“Okay,” Peter said impatiently “maybe it’s because my suit wasn’t made in the nineteen fifties.”</p><p>Lang’s mouth opened automatically to protest, then closed.  “That hurts,” he said instead.  “You hurt my feelings.”</p><p>“And you think you can make a difference?” T’Challa asked.</p><p>“Hey, I’m the reserve,” Peter replied with a tight grin.</p><p>“No, wait, wait,” Lang cut in.  “I mean, come on.  He’s just a kid.  We can’t send him back there.”</p><p>T’Challa cast a quick glance at Lang and took a step closer to Peter.  He looked the younger man in the eyes as if searching for something.  Peter looked right back.  In reality he didn’t have to stay with them.  Neither of them could have stopped him from just swinging away.  But Mr. Stark had asked him to get them back to the elevators.  He couldn’t just abandon them without consent.   Mr. Stark wasn’t there to give it, but they could.</p><p>“Go,” T’Challa said, cutting into Peter’s thoughts.</p><p>Peter made to jump over them, but stopped himself.  “You know the way?” he asked T’Challa.</p><p>“I have a very good memory,” T’Challa responded.  Peter nodded and launched himself back the way they came.</p><p>“I can’t believe you let him go,” Lang said as Peter disappeared through the door they’d just exited.</p><p>“In truth we could not have stopped him,” T’Challa admitted as they began limping the way they’d come.</p><p>“Come on,” Lang argued “he’s just a kid.”</p><p>“A kid that could tear either of us in half with very little effort,” T’Challa replied.  “Be happy he is on our side.” </p><p>For once Scott remained silent.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Tony was still silently, yet soundly, berating himself when Friday’s garbled voice came through the speaker in his helmet.  “Se--re suit dam---,” she said.  “Attem----- to ---oute ar--nd inta-- ---cuits.”  Tony’s eyes closed as a faint glimmer of hope returned to his being.  He’d designed his AI cores with integrated surge protection and defenses against EMP.  Which meant he might be able to get enough functionality back to be of some help to Thor.</p><p>Not that they could stop Thanos; he and Rhodey had the only suits with onboard AIs.  There was no way the dynamic trio of two semi-functional suits and one god of thunder could defeat Thanos.  But if Tony could get some of the others free of their suits, they could free the rest.  All they had to do was keep the Mad Titan busy while the others escaped.  They’d already lost this fight, but at least that way they’d be able to conserve their resources to try again.</p><p>His suit servos unlocked so suddenly that he nearly fell over.  “Partial suit functionality restored,” Friday reported in a voice laced with static.  But it was better than the garbled statements he’d had to parse earlier.</p><p>“Report,” he said quietly, hoping Thanos hadn’t noticed him catching himself.</p><p>“Boot thrusters at eighty-two percent,” she replied “but flight surfaces are only at forty-three percent.”  Tony nodded to himself.  The angle from the origin of the pulse to the boots was greater than to any other part of the armor.  Additionally, he’d been standing behind a pile of rubble and bodies going up to his hip when the pulse was released, providing some minor protection.</p><p>But he still couldn’t fly with only forty-three percent of his flight surfaces functional.  At best he could hover.  “So, flying’s out,” Tony muttered.  “What else?”</p><p>“All flight stabilizers are off line,” she informed him.  “All weapons are offline.  Servo control is at ninety-seven percent.  All capacitors fully charged.”  There was a slight pause, as if she found the next datum embarrassing.  “AI core at seventy-six percent,” she concluded.</p><p>He could understand why she might find that particular point hard to admit, but at least it explained the strange artifacts on his HUD.  Unfortunately, that was the least worrying part of the list.  With no weapons, minimal flight capability, and no repulsors, Tony had effectively been reduced to a tough Steve Rogers.  Except Cap was far better at hand to hand fighting than Tony.  Tough, yet slow and inept was not exactly a profitable trade.</p><p>The best he could hope for was to be able to free the others and slow Thanos down long enough for them to escape.  The down side of that rather suicidal plan was that the only way he could think of to achieve it was to detonate his suit.  He doubted it would kill Thanos, but it might just bury him under enough rock to buy them that time.  But it was the best he could come up with.</p><p>Tony nodded to himself without thinking, then froze as he realized what he’d done.  Fortunately, Thanos’s attention was elsewhere.</p><p>“My Lord,” Proxima Midnight begged respectfully “we can finish them.”</p><p>Thanos turned a frosty gaze on his subordinate.  “We will discuss your failure later,” he informed her in a voice that matched the look.  “For now, collect your husband and join Dwarf,” he commanded.  She bowed, seeming somewhat deflated by his rather blunt promise of punishment and moved to obey.  The rancorous glare she cast at Tony as she passed was nearly enough to melt his armor on the spot.  He had to fight the urge not to take a step backwards.</p><p>Considering the matter closed for the present, Thanos moved on to the next target of his ire.  He fixed his gaze on Nebula’s suit.  “Nebula,” he called out in a voice dripping with malice “you have disappointed me for the last time.”  She instinctively tried to take a step back, but the armor held her immobile.  She’d thought she’d been prepared to face Thanos.  She’d thought she was tough enough to handle that meeting.  But all she could think of was the pain he would inflict if he got hold of her, and getting away from it any way she could.</p><p>“I promise, there will come a time when you will beg me to kill her,” Thanos threatened cryptically.  Still Nebula remained silent.</p><p>“I promise you, you will never get that chance,” Gamora spoke up.  It was sheer bravado, plain and simple, driven solely by the need to defend the only sister she’d ever known.</p><p>Thanos turned that icy countenance on Gamora.  “You propose to deny me of an opportunity I already possess?” he asked, sounding for all the universe amused by the concept.</p><p>But where Nebula had felt only fear at his attention Gamora felt only a defiant anger, a need to protect Nebula that she barely understood.  “And if I kill myself first?” she insisted.  On the surface it seemed like a rather backwards threat.  The sort of ‘you can’t fire me, I quit’ childishness that never actually changes anything.  But it also represented a loss of control on Thanos’s part, and everything they’d learned suggested that that, in his mind, was a completely unacceptable condition.</p><p>They all braced themselves for an explosion of anger and threats.  But when Thanos spoke it was not in anger.  It was in a voice of a disappointed father, perhaps tinged with just a touch of threat.</p><p>“Gamora,” he replied almost sadly “I had expected that you would learn the lessons of Nebula’s misguided altruism.”  That statement, more than the tone, stopped every bystander in the place in confusion, even Gamora.  Many things could be said about the Luphoid, but altruistic certainly didn’t seem to be one of them.  But then, who knew what someone as deranged as the Mad Titan might consider altruistic in the first place?</p><p>“I will do it,” Gamora insisted.  But her voice had already lost some of that fire.  She couldn’t help it.  They’d all learned long ago that disappointment was the most dangerous of Thanos’s moods.</p><p>“I wonder how,” Thanos replied condescendingly, the next most dangerous of his emotions “when you have been so conveniently gift wrapped.”</p><p>By that point Proxima Midnight had returned meekly with her husband’s glaive.  She stepped silently next to the battered and bleeding body of Black Dwarf and waited.  Without a word Thanos raised his gauntleted hand, placing it on her head.  The Tesseract flashed again, this time sending the two disgraced generals back to Thanos’s ship in a beam of light.</p><p>“Now,” Thanos said, addressing the room as if excusing himself to make a constitutional “If you will excuse me, my gauntlet is prepared to fill another vacancy.”  He turned to the nearest of his minions.  “I will deal with these on my return,” he stated.  “You will make no move against them save to prevent their escape.”  Then he stepped quickly to the door they’d tried so hard to beat him too.</p><p>Tony was on the move before he’d fully stepped through the threshold.  Widow was the closest of the armored statues to his position.  He quickly stepped over to her and accessed a panel in the left thigh of her suit.  It slid open revealing a strange tool.  One end looked like an electric nut driver on a swivel head while the other appeared to be a mini Jaws-of-Life.</p><p>He twisted a band near the center that looked much like the selector on a torque wrench and the business end of the nut driver expanded and contracted to fit different sized heads.  He hit a button to test it and it whirred into life.  He wasn’t really surprised; it was a simple tool with no circuitry at all, just a small electric motor and battery.  His biggest fear had been that the suit’s defenses had not provided adequate protection to keep the battery from rupturing.  The tool could be operated by hand, but it would severely slow down the process.  He quickly stepped behind Widow, setting the selector to the number three position.</p><p>“Is everyone okay?” he called out as he began removing the fasteners securing that panel to the armor.  He let the nuts and bolts fall to the ground negligently as he freed them. </p><p>“Yeah,” Falcon replied with a groan as he got to his feet.  “Some mutants broke my fall,” he added as the last of the fasteners came free.  Tony tried to lift the plate off, but the emp had effectively tack welded the pieces together. </p><p>“I’m one hundred percent,” Rhodes said as Tony flipped the tool over and applied the flattened edges to the seam.  The heavy suit was currently flying a pattern around the cavern.  Rhodes wasn’t sure what to do about their remaining minion prison guards.  His impulse was to attack, but they seemed content to watch as Tony began freeing the others.  And he wasn’t sure what Thanos might do if the sound of renewed fighting reached him.  And, on further reflection, they might defend themselves no matter what Thanos’s instructions were.  Starting another fight while most of his allies were helpless did not seem to be a stellar move.</p><p>“I think, I broke . . . everything,” Wanda called from where she’d fallen.  Her voice was that of someone afraid to breathe too deeply.</p><p>“Falcon,” Steve ordered as the plate Tony was working on snicked off of the suit, revealing a small inset lever. </p><p>“On it,” the former Pararescue stated, moving to check on the downed mage as Tony gripped the lever and pulled down.  There was a slight shrieking sound as most of the armor fell apart into a pile at the ex-assassin’s feet.</p><p>“Thanks,” she said as he helped her remove the remaining fused parts.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony mumbled, not feeling at all like someone that deserved to be thanked.  “Let’s go,” he added, leading the way towards the next nearest immobilized suit.  “Getting to the release lever is pretty simple, but it might take a little force,” he explained.</p><p>“Why’s your suit still working?” Natasha asked as she followed.</p><p>“It’s not, but all my AIs have their own integrated defenses from EMP” Tony replied, displaying the tool to her. </p><p>“And only two suits have AIs?” she asked.</p><p>“Right,” Tony admitted, before switching to shop teacher mode.  “Adjust the size here,” he instructed, twisting the band on his all-in-tool.  “This button activates the drill.  Forward is tighten, back is loosen.  You may need the other end to pry fused plates apart,” he added demonstrating their separating operation.  Then he turned back to the suit.  This one happened to house Gamora.  “All the levers are beneath a plate on their back,” he explained, demonstrating the removal of said backplate’s assorted fasteners.</p><p>“Why didn’t Thanos kill all of us?” Widow asked curiously, as she watched.</p><p>“Why didn’t Loki bring his alien army to Earth in some random field instead of New York?” Tony asked bitterly as he dropped the first bolt.</p><p>“He needs an audience?” she asked, surprised that anyone could operate like that.</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “It’s hard to gloat without anyone there to be humbled,” he said, dropping a nut on the ground.</p><p>“You should never give your enemy a chance,” Natasha stated, as if reciting a rule of some sort.</p><p>“Spoken like a dispassionate assassin,” Tony replied as the third bolt came free.  Romanov jerked a little at that, uncertain of whether that comment had been a criticism or a complement.  “But don’t worry,” he added as the third nut fell free “I’m sure he’ll correct that oversight as soon as he returns.”</p><p>“Why hasn’t he?  Returned I mean,” she clarified.  “I mean, how long does it take to break whatever’s holding the stone?”</p><p>“I would guess he’s still got a little time on the clock before he can add it to his bling gauntlet,” Tony replied as the last bolt came free.</p><p>He was on the last nut when Rhodes landed next to them.  His faceplate retracted to reveal the middle-aged man’s face.  “What can I do?” he asked eagerly.</p><p>“How’s your suit?” Tony asked, without looking at him.  Of all the people present, only Rhodes was likely to pick up on his rather self-destructive plan.</p><p>“The pulse caused an intermittent failure in power systems, but Charlotte says all systems are functional,” Rhodes reported crisply, eyeing Tony carefully.  There was something about the way the technologist had stiffened as he’d landed that bothered him.  That coupled with his unwillingness to make eye contact suggested that he was hiding something, something that Rhodes would object to.</p><p>“Good,” Tony replied, still focusing on his work.  “Then I want you in the air.  Things are about to go south quickly.  I’m hoping we can free everyone and skedaddle before Big and Ugly comes back, but I doubt it.  Either way, we’ll need air support.”</p><p>“Roger,” Rhodes replied before the faceplate slid back into place and he launched back into the air.</p><p>Widow watched him go.  “How come his suit still works?” she asked, puzzled.</p><p>Tony provided a grim grin.  “Because when the Airforce took over the suit, they couldn’t make heads or tails of my EMP countermeasures, so they added a Faraday cage to the armor.  Plus, it has heavier armor, which bleeds some of the charge off,” he added, just as he got the backplate free.  “After you,” he said, gesturing towards the lever and taking a step back.</p><p>Natasha gamely stepped forward and got a grip on the handle.  Her first pull barely moved it.  She stepped into a better stance and grabbed the stubborn control with both hands, yanking hard.  Even then, it took a jerk or two before the device came free.  The armor fell around Gamora’s body.  The green woman caught herself from falling into the pile as the lack of the suit’s support exposed her slightly off-balance posture.</p><p>Tony reached into the pile and came up with the left thigh plate.  He gripped it in both hands and yanked the panel off, revealing another all-in-tool, and handing it to Gamora.  “Each suit of armor has one of these in its left thigh,” he explained, handing the tool to Gamora.  “Romanov, you show her how to free them.  I’ll start at the other end.”  Then he instinctively tried to launch himself into the air.</p><p>In all fairness, the launching part was successful.  The flying part, not so much.  He crashed to the ground after only a few meters, cursing his forgetfulness.  He picked himself up and ran the distance to Steve’s suit, thanking his stars that his servos still worked.</p><p>Gamora and Widow watched the debacle, sharing a meaningful smirk before turning to Nebula’s suit.  Natasha quickly brought Gamora up to speed on the operation of the tool, and turned to the backplate, just as Tony had done for her.  Fortunately, this suit’s backplate had fewer fasteners on it, and it came free relatively easily.</p><p>As the armor fell free, they could see the depths of horror Nebula had been going through within her steel cage.  At first, she didn’t react to the sudden freedom.  Then she bolted for the door.</p><p>“Nebula!” Gamora shouted, sprinting behind her sister.  “Nebula, stop!” she called louder as she realized that she was not going to keep up with the Luphoid’s fear induced dash for freedom.  Widow briefly considered trying to help corral the panicked blue woman, but there simply wasn’t time.  She also wasn’t sure she could keep up with the chase anyways.  Instead, she shrugged and set about freeing Deadpool from his restraints.</p><p>Nebula made no indication that she’d even heard her sister, increased volume or not.  Several of Thanos’s minions moved to intercept her path.  She feinted left before striking the right one.  Then she threw herself over the other’s attack, clocked it in the face with her right heel, rolled to the ground, and was gone.  Gamora parkoured off of the momentarily stunned minions in her attempt to gain ground.</p><p>Tony, on seeing her mad dash, held his arm out to launch his custom manacles at her.  Nothing happened, a clear reminder of the lack of such a functioning system.  His eyes closed momentarily as he attempted to contain his frustration at again forgetting about the state of his suit, before turning back to finish extricating Steve.  There simply wasn’t enough time to chase her down and still free the remaining four people currently encased in their suits.  Deep down he was nearly certain there wasn’t enough time to free them at all.  But every person he freed before nuking the room was one more person that wouldn’t have to die with him.</p><p>Others had more time on their hands, though.  Rhodes landed directly in Nebula’s path.  He commanded his suit to lift his visor, in the hopes that an allied face might elicit some pause, and held his arms out in a ‘stop’ motion. </p><p>“Slow down, we don’t want to startle anyone,” Rhodes started to say.  In reality he got as far as the ‘we’ in that statement before nebula’s right arm rocketed between his, punching him in the mouth.  Rhodes instinctively rolled backwards with the blow, unsheathing a stun club as he went.</p><p>In the end it was unnecessary; the delay imposed in her flight by the strike, and the subsequent need to divert around the rolling black suit, were enough to allow Gamora to catch up.  She hurled herself onto Nebula, grabbing her shoulders as she went.  Her momentum carried her across her sister’s path, dragging her off balance.  They both tumbled to the floor like expert gymnasts, ending up on their feet.</p><p>They ended their tumbles facing each other.  Gamora gave Nebula a look mingling disappointment and anger.  Nebula’s face wore an expression of rage that shifted quickly to betrayal as she realized it was Gamora who’d stopped her.  That her own sister might force her to remain within their father’s grasp, particularly after his threats, was almost more than she could bear, and the hurt was evident on her face.</p><p>It never reached her voice.  “You fool,” she hissed.  “This is our chance.”</p><p>“I’m not a fool Nebula,” Gamora said stiffly.  “I’m part of a team.  And, whether you like it or not, so are you.  No one gets left behind.”</p><p>Nebula glanced at the rest of their ‘team’ before returning her attention to her sister.  A part of her had to admit that she’d never have had her chance if the ambulatory among them had followed her chosen course of action.  If Stark had chosen to flee, she’d still be imprisoned, waiting, in terror. </p><p>But she’d learned a long time ago the price of risk for another.  She would not go down that road again.  “You know how this will end,” she said quietly.</p><p>“I know we need you Nebula,” Gamora said, neatly sidestepping Nebula’s assertion.  Despite her words, even Gamora could see only one way for this to go.  But she wouldn’t leave the others, just as they hadn’t left the two of them.  “Just hang in there a little longer,” she pleaded.</p><p>Before Nebula could respond another voice rose from the other side of the room.  “I agree,” Thanos said from behind Gamora.  Involuntarily they turned to the door Thanos had disappeared into.   He was there, silhouetted by light from the previous room, a purple glow added to the other lights in his gauntlet.   And he was staring directly at the two of them.  “What’s your hurry?” he added, gloating at their feeble efforts to escape.</p><p>Nebula froze even more solidly than her suit had, a look of abject terror on her face.  Gamora wasn’t much better, displaying intense fear and increased respiration.</p><p>Seeing the appropriate response from those two, Thanos then made a slow, deliberate visual sweep of the room.  Natasha hesitated.  She’d managed to get the backplate off of Deadpool’s armor and get a good grip on the lever it’d concealed, but she wasn’t sure she should activate it with Thanos watching.  Then again, there was no way he could miss the fact that several of those who’d been encased in armored prisons when he’d stepped out for his cosmic constitutional were now free.  He’d been staring at two of them that he’d just happened to have words with beforehand.  So how much would it hurt if he saw how they escaped?</p><p>The war between her natural inclination to hoard information and the value of that hoarding was brief, but in the end could only end one way.  With a little shrug she yanked on the lever, releasing The Mouth.  It did not take long for him to use it.</p><p>“Well, Thanos,” he started congenially “may I call you Thanos?” he asked.  Thanos didn’t respond, unless you counted a somewhat quizzical glare.  It had been so long since he’d met someone that showed absolutely no fear of him that he’d forgotten how to react.  Wade let the silence carry for a moment.  “Thanos it is,” he declared.  “As I was saying, Thanos, we’re just eager to get to the final act.”</p><p>“This <em>is</em> your final act,” Thanos replied, putting the full weight of his centuries of experience into the threat.</p><p>For his part Wade sounded like someone trying to break bad news gently to someone.  “Well, not according to the script,” he stated, waggling a flat hand in the air.  “You see, this doesn’t end well for you.  In fact, if I were you, I’d surrender now in return for leniency.”</p><p>“Oh really?” Thanos asked, sounding semi-amused at the prospect of someone demanding his surrender.  “Tell me,” he added holding his hand out.  Deadpool found himself floating towards the purple slaver.  “This script of yours,” Thanos continued, drawing the Psycho Santa of quip right up to him.  “Does it go something like this?” he asked, slamming Wade into the ground with such force that it crushed through his chest.</p><p>A dozen different comebacks, most suggesting that Thanos hit like a girl, floated through Wade’s mind as he lay on the ground.  They were all left unsaid; it’s quite hard to speak when you’re suffering from a collapsed chest cavity.  Instead he made do by yelling them as loud as his mind could manage, in rapid succession.  The plus to this approach being that the mind couldn’t get out of breath.  There was no pause, no break.  It was an unending, unrelenting stream of insanity, invective, and insult.   The downside to that approach was that it required a telepath to work, and Deadpool had quite effectively eliminated that timeline.</p><p>Fortunately, Thanos was telepathic, and no telepath could ever truly block out Wade Wilson, try as they might.  It wasn’t the first time someone he’d condemned to a slow death’s last thoughts had consisted of such.  It usually didn’t last long, but he did savor it.  He loved the futility, the utter helplessness that it represented in his victims.</p><p>Usually he simply waited for them to finish.  But it didn’t finish.  It went on and on, long after most brains would have shut down from lack of blood.  Of course, such trifles were of no concern to one as insane as Deadpool.  Eventually, his complete lack of dying (or silencing) peaked Thanos’s interest.</p><p>He bent down, peering at the red suit.  “Interesting,” he said, as if noting a particularly odd form of fungus.  “Yes, I believe I can use you,” he continued to himself, as if running an interview.  “And it just so happens that I have an open slot in my command structure,” he added.</p><p>The threat of the sort of subservience he’d only narrowly escaped once before focused Wade’s mind like a high-powered scope.  His stream of verbal flak switched gears, from insanity to rage.  He forced himself to breath in.  One of his lungs filled, forcing his shattered chest cavity back into alignment on that side.  Wade used the pain of that act to intensify his rapid-fire remarks.  If not for the direness of the situation the multi-cracking sound that induced would have been quickly followed by the sound of a dozen people emptying whatever they happened to use as a stomach onto the floor.  Then the other lung filled.</p><p>Thanos watched the oddity with interest.  “I can see you will be an interesting challenge Wade Wilson,” he admitted grudgingly.  Wade had much to say on that issue.</p><p>Amidst that diversionary monologue Tony managed to finish removing the backplate to Bucky’s suit.  He surreptitiously handed the all-in-tool to Steve, who’d been watching the process, but held off on actually releasing him.  They were too much in Thanos’s line of sight.  He couldn’t tell what exactly about Deadpool’s, motionless body was keeping the Mad Titan’s interest but he was fairly certain that the sight of yet another freed enemy would probably abort it.</p><p>Steve edged his way over to the last suited figure.  On the plus side, Drax and Bucky had been fairly close together when everything had gone to hell.  On the minus side, Cap was about the most terrible covert operative Tony had ever seen.  It didn’t take long for anyone watching to realize that he’d never even considered cultivating stealth.  All of Thanos’s minions were watching him, but they were still constrained by their orders to only harm escapees.  None of them were going to disobey the boss in front of the boss. And none of them would have even dreamed of interrupting him.</p><p>In the end, the six-foot super soldier’s lack of clandestine aptitude was irrelevant.  He’d barely made it to Drax’s suit as Thanos commented on Deadpool’s inherent difficulty.  After said statement, the purple gorilla grabbed the still healing mercenary and hurled him upward with enough force to embed him in the ceiling.  Deadpool’s stream of invective continued.</p><p>“Stay,” he commanded Deadpool before looking back over the battlefield.  His gaze came to rest on Tony, still standing behind Bucky with his hand on the release lever.  For a split second there was a moment of understanding between them.  In some respects, they were kindred spirits.  After all, Thanos had begun his life as a tinker, interested only in what he could create, trying to help his fellow Titans.  It was a chilling realization for Tony, a doubt thrust among his many other doubts about his own actions.</p><p>But it was only a moment.  And apparently Thanos didn’t enjoy the reminder of his humble beginnings, because his lip curled in disgust.  Then he spoke.</p><p> “Kill the others,” Thanos ordered.  His minions sprang into action, each attacking whomever they happened to be closest to.  No doubt any target was good enough, just as long as Thanos saw them attacking it. </p><p>Such haphazard coordination probably would have served to overwhelm the group anyway if they hadn’t managed to whittle their numbers down so significantly before the Mad Titan’s intervention.  Of the hundred or so minions that had crowded the room on their entrance there were only thirty-five or forty left.  And, of that thirty-five or forty, roughly half were disabled to varying degrees by their master’s pulse.  Which did not preclude them from making nuisances of themselves.</p><p>“Rhodey, watch Steve’s back,” Tony called over the com as he yanked the lever on Barnes’s suit.</p><p>“Roger that,” the former air force pilot called, already arcing his flight path towards them.  His minigun spooled up quickly before sending a wall of lead right over Steve and Drax’s head as he closed.</p><p>Tony looked back from checking Rhodes’s flight to see Thanos charging him.  He grabbed Barnes by the back of his leather vest and hurled him to the left, out of the path of the rare and excitable purple backed gorilla.  But that still left Tony smack dab in the middle of the track.</p><p>He watched Thanos come, gauging the monster’s speed.  He could only hope that, from the outside, his manner was consistent with the proverbial deer in the headlights.  If Thanos even suspected what he was about to attempt he’d probably end up impacted in a wall somewhere.</p><p>But, whether due to anger at what Tony represented, anticipation given by the thought of what he was about to do, or an arrogance born of centuries of victory, Thanos never guessed that Tony would thrust over his head as his arms closed to crush him.  Despite that complete surprise he still almost snagged Tony’s boot.</p><p>Tony responded to the near miss by pointing his boot thrusters directly at Thanos’s giant purple head and kicking them on full.  The sudden thrust sent Thanos into a nearly uncontrolled tumble.  He actually crushed through two of his own minions before he could arrest his momentum.</p><p>But, as Isaac Newton had warned so long ago, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.  In this instance, the action of sending Thanos smashing through the ranks of his own military came with the reaction of sending Tony rocketing in the opposite direction.</p><p>“Shiiiiiiiit!” Tony yelled as he tried to avoid a flight path that any onlooker would have described as ballistic.  No matter how frantically he tried, he could not gain more than a minor semblance of control.  Friday had reported that his flight surfaces were only at forty three percent.  But that number only described the number of surfaces that would respond reliably.  Some of the others would respond every now and then.  Nor could Friday simply shut power off to the unreliable flight surfaces due to her impromptu rerouting of command and control.</p><p>In the end Tony picked a soft looking (relatively) minion near Rhodes and steered towards him.  He cut his thrusters completely, arcing twenty feet downwards onto his target.  Even in this he was only moderately successful.  Instead of impacting the center of the minion he dealt it a mere glancing blow before crashing into the ground.</p><p>“Now that’s a textbook landing right there,” Rhodes commented as the green of Tony’s inter-suit healing device (patent pending) kicked in.  The tinker groaned and climbed slowly to his feet.</p><p>“Give me a break will ya,” he replied.  “It’s my first time in a bull fight.”</p><p>“I see you dressed the part,” Steve replied while wrestling with a rather recalcitrant bolt.  The back of Drax’s suit was mangled from the pounding he’d received from Black Dwarf prior to their liberation of Corvus’s glaive.  He was pretty sure the bolt he was working on had been tied in a knot.</p><p>“Well, you know what they say,” Rhodes added, blasting a minion with a repulsor “any bull fight you can walk away from is a good one.”  Tony grinned slightly at the rephrasing but otherwise remained silent.  Instead he focused on backing Rhodes up as best he could.  Again, he was moderately successful at best.</p><p>He’d just ended a wrestling match with a three-armed minion by hurling it away from Steve’s back when he caught a glimpse of Thanos.  The Titan had just righted himself and was glaring threats at Tony.  He raised a hand and Stark felt a brief tug at his suit, as if Thanos had lassoed him.  He clearly planned a repeat of his performance with Deadpool, save for the not dying part.  But before Tony could slide more than a couple of inches Thor intervened.</p><p>Thanos had been so focused on Tony that he never even saw the Asgardian’s hammer’s approach.  It sideswiped him in the jaw, sending him spinning back to the ground.  Thor recalled the hammer on a low arc, so that just as Thanos turned that glare his direction he was sideswiped again.</p><p>Thor knew better than to cast the hammer again.  He’d learned the hard way that Thanos’s indescribable power could overwhelm even its unstoppable nature.  Instead he charged.  Thanos gamely returned the gesture.</p><p>Falcon was just dodging past the last minion between him and their entrance/exit as that titanic clash ensued.  He ran past where Widow, Nebula, and Gamora had established a perimeter and gently laid Wanda up against the wall next to where Quill was frantically fussing with his guns.  She’d born the sudden jerks and shifts of their passage quite well, particularly considering the broken ribs his probing fingers found. </p><p>“Hang in there,” he said before turning to fire his machine pistols at an approaching minion that had gotten past Gamora.  Wanda nodded, eyes sealed shut.  Sam lingered, worriedly over her.</p><p>“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Quill offered without looking up from his work.</p><p>“You seem a bit busy,” Falcon observed.</p><p>“Yeah, I think I can get one working if I cannibalize parts from the other,” Quill said as he wrestled with the casing on the second gun, completely missing the point of Sam’s statement.  “Sort of a Frankenstein’s-ah,” he said as the casing finally released its death grip.  He turned towards them, revealing the opened guts of one of his guns, and glanced up.  His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he noted Falcon’s absence of absence. </p><p>“What?” he demanded, “I can multitask.”  Falcon flashed him a look suggesting he wasn’t so sure about that.  “Besides,” Quill said as he returned his focus to his gun “you should probably worry more about what’s behind you.”</p><p>Falcon’s eyes widened in surprise as he snatched his guns out of their holster and twisted around.  As advertised, one of Thanos’s minions had managed to work its way around Widow and head towards them.  Sam locked eyes with it and stepped away from Wanda in hopes of keeping her out of any collateral damage the upcoming action might precipitate.</p><p>He almost needn’t have bothered; the entire fight consisted of him ducking a wild swing, placing the muzzle of one of his machine pistols on a fleshy portion of the thing’s chest, and pulling the trigger.  It dropped where it was standing.</p><p>“Nice move,” Quill said, still not looking up from his work.  Falcon glanced back at Quill, noting that the rogue still seemed completely focused on his weapon, and nodded to himself.  He gave Wanda one last worried look and stepped up to join the three-woman perimeter.</p><p>As it turned out it was more like two women.  Nebula might as well have been a statue for all the help she was.  She was still in the same position she’d rolled to before Thanos had reared his ugly head.  Her breath came in short quick strokes.  Her eyes were following Thanos wherever he went.  Her face was a mask of pure fear.</p><p>                One glance showed that Gamora wasn’t doing much better in the fear department, but at least she was fighting back.  She and Widow had taken up flanking positions centered on Nebula and were doing their best to protect her.  That stopped Sam for a moment.  He could not figure out why they would work so hard to protect Nebula; as far as he was concerned, she’d written herself off the roster of allies with her actions.  But he was also aware that this was hardly the time to have that conversation.  He quickly took a position on Widow’s right, and hoped his bullets would hold out.</p><p>“Dammit Tony,” Steve grunted, catching Stark’s attention.  “This plate won’t come off.”</p><p>Tony glanced at the object of Cap’s displeasure.  Steve had given up on the all-in-tool and was attempting to bend the backplate back with his bare hands.  He’d made a small amount of progress too.</p><p>“Alright switch,” Tony ordered.  They both twisted in unison, back to back, ending in each other’s spot.  The maneuver was carried out as if they were dancers working an intricately choreographed and rehearsed step, instead of fighters making it up as they went in the midst of explosions.</p><p>Tony snagged the tool from the ground and held it up to the plate as if planning to use it.  He stopped short, realizing that it would be completely useless; Steve’s mechanical improvisations had mangled the plate beyond use.  And that was if it would have worked in the first place.  Instead he tossed it over his shoulder.  “I’m sure you can find something to do with this,” he said over his shoulder.</p><p>“Yep,” Steve called as he caught the tool and slammed it into a minion’s head, all in one smooth motion.  Tony forwent a reply in favor of a more powered version of Steve’s approach.  While the super soldier hadn’t accomplished much, he had managed to bend the plate enough for the suit’s gauntleted fingers to fit under the gap.</p><p>Meanwhile the one on one fight between Thor and Thanos was not going well.  As Tony worked a gauntlet under the gap Cap had made, Thanos managed to snatch Thor out of the air and backhand cast him in a not so random direction.</p><p>Tony had just gotten a grip on the offending plate before Rhodes yelled a warning.  Tony glanced up to see Thor on a ballistic track that ended with the two suits.  And past Thor’s flailing form he could see Thanos in hot pursuit.  He was currently charging through two of his own minions like they weren’t there.  There was barely enough time to process that image before the Asgardian slammed through them.</p><p>Drax and Tony were knocked away from each other like bowling pins.  Of the two, Drax was far more pin like in that he couldn’t move in any way.  That was great for imitating an inanimate object, not so much for trying to cushion one’s rough landing.  He bounced away from the combat like an escaping top before coming to rest propped partly up by the door to the vault.</p><p>In what amounted to pure luck Tony was knocked directly into Rhodes, adding a nice third dimension to his tumble.  Which was still better than Rhodes faired; the impact launched him straight into the center of the rather large group of minions he’d been holding off. </p><p>That left Bucky of the one arm and Steve to fend for themselves.  But what they lacked in strength they made up for in team work.  None of the few minions that targeted them could attack either of them individually.</p><p>Thor flipped over after the impact to make a controlled landing on the opposite wall.  He’d planned to leap back off of the wall at Thanos, but before he could Thanos was right there.  The Mad Titan led with his left hand, smashing Thor back against the rock he’d so adroitly alighted on, pinning him to it.  Apparently, he was very much against anyone upstaging him acrobatically.</p><p> “Regretting killing your sister, Thor Odinson?” Thanos gloated, face filling Thor’s view.  “Wondering if she might have been of help here?” he added.  Thor couldn’t deny that he had a point.  Hela’s power would have been an asset in this fight.  But that would have been trading one supervillain for another.</p><p>“She was just like you,” Thor returned, glaring defiantly at that massive face.  He struggled to free himself, but Thanos had all the leverage.  He’d even managed to pin Thor’s hammer to his chest, rendering it useless.</p><p>“And I thank you for removing the competition,” Thanos replied.  “With the power of Asgard she was a threat to me, like your father before he lost his nerve.  But you, you’re just an annoyance,” he added, pausing to allow his sadistic grin to work its magic. </p><p>Then he leaned still closer.  “You’re not worthy of the name Odinson,” he added, giving voice to the very insecurity that had plagued Thor all of his life.  It was why he’d worked so hard to be a warrior, and ironically, it was why he’d once lost his father’s favor.  He’d thought he’d buried that fear when he’d regained Mjolnir.  But if he was to be honest with himself, he’d opposed Hela more because his father had than from any internal conviction.  She might have been the wrong person to wield Asgard’s power, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was wrong.  And, here and now, he could not convince himself he’d been right.</p><p>Thanos listened to Thor’s mind as it reached the conclusion he’d waited for.  Once it arrived, he cocked his massive right fist back as far as it could go.  “I’ll send your regards to your brother,” he sneered as he prepared to crush the meddlesome Asgardian once and for all.  Just a last little dig into Thor’s failures.  The blow never landed.</p><p>While Thanos worked at destroying Thor’s confidence Tony was busily picking himself out of the crevasse his pinballing had landed him in.  The first thing he saw was Rhodes’s black suit in the middle of a shiver of minions.  Rhodes had managed to right himself, and was swinging those big powered arms like he was dancing The Twist in attempt to give himself some room.</p><p>“Rhodey!” Tony yelled before thrusting towards the group.  His course was about as accurate as an out of date solid fueled rocket, but with a mass that size it hardly mattered.  He bounced off of the ground once before plowing into the left side of the group at hip height.  The first few were knocked aside much like he’d been moments before, but their impacts effectively killed his momentum.</p><p>He stomped the rest of the way through the mass of metal and organic limb, arms swinging in much the same manner as Rhodes.  Most of the minions never even noticed him, such was there need to be seen attacking something.  Whether or not they were the third or thirtieth in line didn’t matter.</p><p>But the further into the mass Tony pushed the greater the number of that alien mosh pit that noticed him.  As they became aware of his presence, they threw themselves at him just as they had against Rhodes.  Tony found himself facing the very press he’d been trying to save his friend from, and with far less suit to do it.  Less training as well.</p><p>But every minion targeting him was one less targeting Rhodes.  As Tony began to wonder about the wisdom of this tactic Rhodes managed to unlimber his stun clubs.  With those in hand he was able to work his way towards Tony.  Anyone even appearing to think of interfering with his progress was administered an electric clubbing for their troubles.  Cumulative to the damage they’d already taken from their own master’s pulse, it wasn’t hard to understand how even Thanos’s minions might withdraw.</p><p>As the black suit closed, their enemies gave enough ground to create a small open area containing the two suited figures.  “Hold this,” Rhodes ordered thrusting one of his stun clubs into Tony’s gauntleted hand.</p><p>Tony glanced at the unfamiliar weapon.  “What am I-” he started as Rhodes used the recently unladen hand to grip Tony’s armor just below the upper back.  Then he launched himself into the air, dragging Tony’s suit with him.  Tony’s question died stillborn as he found himself jammed against the front of his suit.</p><p>Fortunately for Tony it was a short flight; Rhodes set them down at a spot midway between the mob they’d just escaped and where Thanos had Thor pinned.</p><p>“I think I prefer driving,” Tony gasped as Thanos started cocking that massive arm of doom back.</p><p>“I’ve seen your driving Tony,” Rhodes replied as he angled his body parallel to the line between the two groups, one arm held out towards each like a crossing guard.  Then he fired both concussion pulses.</p><p>The concussion pulse was his suit’s ultimate crowd pleaser.  He’d have loved to have used it in the mosh pit, but he’d been having a hard time maintaining control of his arms until Tony crashed the party.  After that he’d held off, not wanting to concuss his ally.</p><p>He played one pulse across the approaching wave front of minions.  Wherever it touched they became disorganized and uncoordinated, often falling and tripping up others behind them.  It wasn’t going to stop them; nothing short of death was going to stop that approaching collection of broken pawns.  But it did slow their advance.</p><p>There were a few leakers of course, members of the crowd that managed to avoid the pulses.  Tony stepped forward, careful to avoid interceding in Rhodes’s field of fire, and held the stun club he’d somehow managed to hold onto in a two-handed grip like a bat.  He was far from adept with the weapon, but he was able to keep them off of the black suit. </p><p>It helped that they really didn’t care who they attacked or why.  They were perfectly happy throwing themselves into Tony’s electrified home run swings even if the rest of their brethren were being inhibited by someone else.  Clearly Thanos’s lessons had focused far less on tactics than on mindless obedience.</p><p>The other pulse Rhodes targeted on Thanos; it had far less effect.  Partly that was due to Rhodes’s own discomfort with hitting allies with the pulse.  In order to avoid hitting Thor with the beam he was forced to target only the edge of the Titan, where the effect began tapering off, on his captor.</p><p>That’s not to say it had no effect on the lumbering purple colossus.  As it hit Thanos bellowed in rage at yet again having been interfered with, and twisted his glare to the source.  That motion loosened his grip on Thor’s chest enough that he was able to shove that massive hand to the side. </p><p>While Thanos was busily staring threats at Rhodes Thor happily dropped his hammer on the Mad Titan’s foot.  This led to another bellow, this one more in pain than in rage.  Thanos reached down to grasp the hammer, but before he could Thor called it back to his hand.  It intersected with his jaw on the way, causing its owner to fall flat on his back.</p><p>Now that Thor and Thanos were separated Rhodes was free to direct his beam of discombobulation more directly at Thanos.  He inched towards the prone Titan.  As the distance to the target shrank so did the attenuation of the beam.  Instead of walking directly towards Thanos, Rhodes took a path that moved closer towards the wall, so as to keep Thor out of his line of effect.</p><p>Despite his efforts Thor still felt the effects of the beam a few times, usually as he tried to dart a blow in on his massive opponent.  After a few attempts he settled for simply casting the hammer repeatedly at Thanos in an attempt to keep their adversary from regaining his feet.</p><p>Fortunately, the hammer was completely unaffected by the pulse.  The same could not be said of its target.  At first Thanos simply tried to catch the hammer, as he’d done before at Tivan’s offices.  But the effects of the stun pulse made it difficult for him to bring the force of mind necessary to the task to bear.  He tried to roll out of the beam, but Rhodes’s aim was more than equal to that task.  He even grabbed a chunk of dirt from the ground with the hand not holding the mind stone and chucked it at Rhodes in an attempt to attenuate the beam.  It was simply pushed aside</p><p>But what they hadn’t considered was that with every failure Thanos became more and more enraged.  Finally, he yelled ‘Enough’ and released a telekinetic explosion in all directions.</p><p>The blast knocked everyone in the area down, Rhodes, Tony, Thor, even the minions further away.  Before anyone could react Thanos was back on his feet.  He grabbed Thor in one fist and launched the both of them across the room, well away from Rhodes’s pesky stun pulses.</p><p>The others got up and regrouped as the various minions around them forced themselves back to their feet.  Tony glanced between the helpless Drax and the nearly helpless Thor, unsure of what to do.  He toyed briefly with the idea of sending Rhodes to help Thor, but there was no way they could fight their way to Drax without him. </p><p>“Well?” Bucky asked, also unsure of what to do.  Whereas Tony was fighting his prejudice to help his friend, Barnes really didn’t care who he helped.  He barely knew either of them.  One was completely helpless, but easier to free.  The other was less helpless, but would be tougher to help.</p><p>“It’s your call Tony,” Steve said eyeing the two suits; they were by far the most effective members of the team at the moment.  There was a time when that wouldn’t have mattered, when Steve would have made the call without thinking.  But the pilots of those suits were part of Tony’s Avengers, not his.  He had no right to order them around.</p><p>Steve stopped to glance at Tony when the inventor didn’t respond immediately.  “You’re not sure what to do,” he said in surprise.  Tony always knew, or thought he knew, what to do.  For some reason Steve found that indecision more unnerving than the entire rest of the fight had been.</p><p>Fortunately, Thor took the decision out of Tony’s hands.  The statement was barely out of Steve’s mouth when the Asgardian called his hammer.  Thanos was currently slamming him piston like against the wall he’d thrown them at with one hand, clearly enjoying himself.  He never saw the hammer.  He felt it as it slammed the elbow he was using as a piston aside.  He roared in pain and wrung the hand in the air as if fighting off a serious attack of pins and needles.  But Thor wasn’t done.  As the blow freed him, he caught the hammer and swung upwards under Thanos’s exposed armpit.</p><p>There was another bellow, but this time Thanos’s other hand came into play as he punched Thor in a line parallel to the curved wall.  It wasn’t long before Thor found himself tumbling against the upright surface.</p><p>As he came to rest, he glanced up to see the halted foursome.  “Go,” he commanded them.  Then, without checking to see if they were following orders, he pulled himself back to his feet and launched himself back at Thanos.</p><p>Tony hesitated for another moment, still unwilling to just abandon his friend, even if only for a short time.  Steve’s probing eyes crossed from Tony to Rhodes.  The black man shrugged in his armor noncommittally, but it was clear that Tony’s behavior bothered him as well.</p><p>“You heard him,” Steve said to the group, finally taking that step.  It worked.  Tony glanced at him, then over to Drax, nodded once to himself, then started working his way towards their target.  The others followed.</p><p>Fortunately, most of the minions in the cavern were behind them.  There were only a few between Drax and his extraction crew, and those that were present quickly stopped trying to peel him out of his armor as they approached.</p><p>                As it turned out, Drax was not the only helpless combatant in danger: some of Thanos’s minions on the opposite end of the dome had recently taken an interest Brunnhilde.  It was hard to say why they’d ignored her so long.  Perhaps they’d simply assumed she was dead.</p><p>Sam noted the change immediately.  He’d spotted her body where it had been embedded in the rock on the other side of the entrance to this godforsaken cavern shortly after stepping in to cover Widow’s right flank.  He’d wanted to retrieve her then, but he’d been unable to find a moment when their stretched line could afford to lose him.  They were three fighters trying to protect three noncombatants.  Granted, one of those should have been a combatant but for her lost nerve, but that didn’t change the situation.</p><p>Besides, there was no guarantee he’d be able to get to her.  And he’d been fairly certain that they’d key on her the moment he started any rescue attempt.  So, he’d decided that the best course of action was to just leave it alone. </p><p>Unfortunately, that was no longer an option.  He chucked one of his two remaining grenades behind the minions advancing on her, hoping they’d shield her from the shrapnel.  It worked, but the explosive only managed to incapacitate two of the three goons.</p><p>Sam watched as the third continued on with a complete lack of interest in what that grenade had done to its buddies, or who might have thrown it.  Of its three legs the two back ones were cybernetic, which probably explained why the grenade hadn’t stopped it.  It was dragging itself forward on the one leg, using the back two as a makeshift crutch.  One of them seemed to still have partial functionality.</p><p>He knew he had to do something, but he only had one grenade left, and there were more behind it.  His machine pistols were simply too inaccurate to project the damage necessary to do anything but annoy them, and he risked hitting Brunnhilde if he tried.  But he’d been Pararescue for three years.  You never really quit a job like that; it becomes a part of you.</p><p>He turned to warn Widow he had to leave her flank, but the view when he did so was less lethal redhead and more giant raging cyborg.  While he’d been worrying about Brunnhilde one of Thanos’s children had managed to slip inside his guard.</p><p>He caught sight of it as it was in the middle of a backswing that would surely have pummeled at least half of his body into goo.  For a split second that surprise froze him in place.  All he could do was watch as it finished its backswing.  While the rest of him remained frozen one corner of his brain began a running analysis of the beast.  It was over eight feet tall, with bright red skin.  It was dotted with augments, and appeared to be missing an eye.  And it also appeared that what he’d first identified as a club was actually the leg off of one of its compatriots.  So, an improvised club.</p><p>By the time he’d gotten past that momentary startlement it had started its improvised club on its forward arc.  Sam instinctively pointed both machine pistols at its massive body, knowing full well that nothing he could do to it would stop what it was about to do to him.</p><p>Before he could fire a blue bolt of energy arced from the wall by Wanda, sending the thing and its buddy club flying away from him.  Sam backtracked the bolt to its source, the barrel of Quill’s readied gun.</p><p>“Nice shot,” he called out before turning back to check on Brunnhilde.  The last of the first group had reached her.  Somehow, she’d managed to deflect its first attack with her left arm.  Then she kicked at the joint of the front leg, breaking it at the knee.  She moaned in pain as the action grated against her injured right side.  It fell to the ground silently.</p><p>“I told you I’d get it working,” Quill said coming up behind him.  Sam turned, a question in his eyes.  “Go,” Peter said with a glance at the target of his concern.  “I’ll do what I can to cover you from here.”  Sam was gone before he’d finished, dodging past as many minions as he could avoid.</p><p>Quill tried to cover Sam’s advance while holding down his sector at the same time, but the press quickly became too much.  There were simply too many targets, and he was down one gun.  He was forced to give a few steps of ground, which left Widow open on her right.</p><p>Their opponents quickly capitalized on that; before she knew what was going on Widow found herself completely on the defensive verses three of Thanos’s deranged children.  She gave ground stubbornly just as Quill tried to take his own back, but it was no use.  He knew he was taking dangerous risks.  Even if he hadn’t the blows to his body would have been a clue.  Thankfully <em>his</em> armor didn’t require any processing power; it was, in fact, the only piece of gear he had that still functioned at one hundred percent.</p><p>Widow was barely holding on.  She managed to deflect a bladed appendage of some sort (she hardly had time to examine it) to her left.  Not only did it narrowly miss her, but it also came within two hairs widths of Nebula.  The blue woman flinched as the sudden, and much closer, movement drew her attention away from Thanos.</p><p>Her eyes snapped to focus on the bearer of said bladed appendage.  As they did, and as she realized what had almost happened, all of the fear that had paralyzed her so turned to rage.  It was as if someone had flipped a switch.</p><p>Then she moved.  It was like watching liquid lightning.  Before Natasha knew what had happened, she found herself facing but one of her three opponents.  In less than two seconds Nebula had broken or removed every limb on the offender and was working on the second aggressor.  Widow made a mental note to go over her memory of what had just happened when she had a spare moment.</p><p>But at the moment they had other concerns.   “Quill, go,” Natasha ordered as she fell into his position.  One look at Nebula’s handiwork was enough evidence for the space rogue.  He vaulted one minion, firing at it as he passed over its head, and did his best to recreate Sam’s feats of acrobatics.</p><p>He slipped through the crowd to find Sam standing in front of Brunnhilde, guns blazing.  As it turned out, reaching her had been the easy part.   Finding enough time to remove her broken body from the wall was entirely another.  He was standing in a pile of clips for his gun that honestly seemed like more than he could have carried.  He’d been contemplating using his last grenade when Quill showed up.</p><p>Quill fell in on his left and opened up on the target rich environment without a word.  As if by some unspoken consent Falcon holstered his smoking weapons and turned to check on his charge.  It was pretty much as Friday had reported to Tony.  He was fairly certain that kick hadn’t done much good, other than keeping her alive of course.</p><p>“Retrieving,” he called over his shoulder.  He gently pulled her out of the wall amidst her groans of pain, and tried to figure out exactly how he was going to get her back to the line.  He couldn’t exactly dodge past all the flailing limbs with such fragile cargo, but they also couldn’t just set up another perimeter.</p><p>As he was working out the particulars, he saw Widow say something to Nebula.  There was a quick back and forth between them, ending only when Gamora shouted Nebula’s name.  A moment later the blue woman had carved a path to them.  At one point she’d picked up one of her siblings and hurled it at another like a sack of potatoes.  She also acquired a couple of short clubs in the form of slightly used limbs.  Apparently ‘Using your enemy’s limbs for fun and profit’ was a required course in the twisted aberration Thanos called a family.</p><p>Gamora and Widow collapsed their defensive line around Wanda just as the rescue party started back.  Surprisingly Nebula wasn’t nearly as good at defending someone as she was at carving up her former allies.  Sam found himself having to dodge attacks several times, much to Brunnhilde’s pain.  Clearly ‘Escort Missions for Aggravation and Annoyance’ had been left off the syllabus.  Still, in the end they managed to make it across the threshold of the room to the three women.</p><p>Odd allies were being formed on the other side of the dome as well.  The four men had made it through the last of the minions between them and Drax when Tony thrust the stun club Rhodes had given him into Bucky’s hand.</p><p>“I suspect you’ll be needing this more than I,” he said simply before accelerating ahead of the group.  Bucky stopped in shock, staring at the club.  He’d been doing his best to stay out of Tony’s way ever since their dramatic team up, and to be fair Tony had made the effort to be at least cordial to him.  But he’d have never guessed that Stark would give him anything.  Well, anything other than a bullet traveling at very high speed.  But this?  It was such a little thing, and yet not little at all.</p><p>He looked back up to where Tony was flipping Drax’s rigid suit around to access the backplate.  He felt a need to say . . . something, to acknowledge that oddly ironical olive branch.  But nothing seemed appropriate.  ‘Thanks’ somehow managed to seemed to be both an underwhelming and overwhelming response at the same time.  ‘Sorry’ would only have brought up old disagreements.</p><p>So instead he simply shrugged, thumbed the switch at the top of the club’s handle, and turned to face the oncoming horde.</p><p>“You might as well take my other stun paddle, Cap” Rhodes said as he reached behind himself to remove it.  Steve took the proffered weapon, equally unsure of how to respond.  He’d never forgiven himself for what had happened to Rhodes.  While technically he wasn’t responsible, he’d led the group that had caused it.  He’d okayed grabbing Wanda from the Avengers facility.  If he hadn’t been so stubborn none of it would ever happen.  Even after he’d discovered that Rhodes had been healed, he’d still felt a pang of regret every time he talked to him.  And here the guy he’d paralyzed was giving him his last melee weapon.  In the end he settled for a little eye contact and a nod of acknowledgement.</p><p>Rhodes grinned a sly grin.  “Don’t get all mushy on me Steve,” he said in mock warning, before following Barnes’s example.  He knew how Steve felt; he imagined he’d have felt pretty much the same if the roles were swapped.  But he’d never held what happened against Steve.  He hadn’t blamed Vision or Sam either.  It was just tough luck, bad timing, the x factor.  And yeah, it had sucked.  But he’d never been one to hold a grudge.  He’d never have been able to put up with pre-Iron Man Tony if he had, let alone post Iron Man Tony.</p><p>“I’ll take center,” Rhodes added as they watched the wave approach.  “You guys catch any leakers.”  With that the helmet closed over his face and he took a long step forward.  “Hey,” he said twisting his head back to them “you guys ever see a train derail?”  Without waiting for an answer, he activated both stun pulses and trained them over the front of the wave.  It dropped, tripping up the next line back.</p><p>Meanwhile Tony was busily wrestling with the back of Drax’s armor.  Somehow, in what had to be a thousand to one chance, one of the impacts the suit had suffered as it careened around from the Thor-ball strike had reclosed the opening Steve had made in the panel.  He couldn’t get his gauntleted fingers under the plate anymore.</p><p>After a few scratching attempts he slapped his left thigh, opening the compartment his all-in-tool was stored in.  He snatched it deftly from its holster and held it up to the nearly welded metal, looking for a gap in the seam that it could fit into.</p><p>“You know, any time now Tony,” Steve called as he backhand swung his high-tech club at the jaw of a closing minion.</p><p>“Why, you in a hurry Steve?” Tony asked sarcastically as he tried to force the wedge in.  The largest gap in the seam he could find could easily accommodate one side of his mini jaws of life, but it couldn’t quite fit both.  He was currently twisting the edge in the seam to try and create a little more room, but he’d never designed the tool to be used as such.  There was no real leverage to grasp, and his gauntlets kept slipping on the shaft of the tool.</p><p>“Of course not,” Steve replied in kind.</p><p>“Who’d want to leave paradise?” Bucky added.</p><p>“Good,” Tony replied as he finally widened the crack enough.  He jammed the tool into the seam a little harder than necessary and activated it.  “Because even after we free the blue berserker we still can’t leave.”</p><p>“What?” Rhodes asked, sounding shocked.  ‘Never leave a man behind’ he understood, even if he also understood that that wasn’t always an option.  But once they’d rescued their comrades what else was there to do; keep getting their asses kicked?</p><p>“Ah,” Tony said as the tool finished creating an opening big enough, completely missing Rhodes’s question.</p><p>“He means we can’t let Thanos keep the Mind Stone,” Steve answered.</p><p>“Right,” Rhodes replied, feeling as if he should have seen that.</p><p>“Wait, why?” Barnes asked.</p><p>“Because, then all he needs is the Time Stone to destroy half of the life in the galaxy,” Rhodes replied.</p><p>“He doesn’t have it yet,” Barnes argued.</p><p>“We have to assume he knows where it is,” Tony countered as he continued arguing with Drax’s suit.  He’d managed to peel back most of the backplate, but its upper part had been virtually fused to the collar assembly.  When he’d pulled the panel up it had bent along that axis instead of freeing the top seem.  “He was perfectly fine letting others hold the stones until the Soul Stone was found, which suggests he was waiting until all their whereabouts had been revealed before he moved.”</p><p>“And we don’t know where the Time Stone is,” Bucky replied as a light dawned.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony agreed as if Barnes’s statement had been blindingly obvious.  “Which is why we have to stall,” he added as he finally managed to yank the recalcitrant lever down, freeing Drax.  The Blue Rager burst from the armor.  He appeared mostly whole, despite the shape his armor had been bent into, but he was holding his left side. </p><p>“Got any ideas on that?” Bucky replied, ignoring Tony’s tone.  They all turned to their destination on the other end of the dome.</p><p>“Better figure it out quick,” Rhodes replied in a warning tone.  They followed his gaze to where Thor was fighting Thanos.  Again, the fight had not gone well for him.  His left eye was swollen nearly shut.  He had myriad cuts and bruises distributed evenly along the exposed sections of his skin, a split lip, and a very broken nose.</p><p>As they watched Thanos once again slammed him into a wall of the dome.  This time, as if their conversation had reminded him of it, he opened his right hand, revealing the golden glow from the Mind Stone buried in it.  Thor stared at it and felt fear.  Thanos grinned sadistically at Thor’s expression, giving the Asgardian just enough time to work out the implications before touching it ever so gently to the Asgardian’s chest.</p><p>For the second time that day Thor felt as if he was losing himself.  It felt nearly identical to the last thing he’d remembered feeling when Supergiant had imposed her own will on him, and yet distinctly different.  It wasn’t as controlled as Supergiant had been; it was as if Thanos was using a new tool he’d neglected to read the manual for.  But what it lacked in focus it more than made up in sheer power.</p><p>Thor fought against it with everything that he was, but he could feel the immense power of the stone find the cracks in his defenses.  He opened his eyes as if searching for something, some anchor that would help maintain his self.  At some point in his internal struggle his head had turned away from Thanos.  He found himself watching Sam and Peter as they tried to extract Brunnhilde’s broken body from the wall he’d slammed her into.  He saw them checking the wounds that had been created by his hands, and he knew that if he failed again it would only be worse.</p><p>A new sensation rose through him, fighting the old.  Apparently today was a day of firsts because it was another new feeling.  It was akin to anger or fury, but not the same.  He’d felt those in his past.  But this, this was wrath.</p><p>And it didn’t come alone.  It brought its friends Determination, and Purpose.  Thor found himself digging deep into reserves of energy within himself; reserves he’d never known were there because he’d never needed them.  There had always been plenty of energy for the taking all around him.</p><p>But now he knew.   He gathered that energy, pulling it up into his chest.  He couldn’t tell if it was the reluctance of his own body, or the Mind Stone fighting him, but it took more willpower than he’d ever guessed to get his body to relinquish its reserves.  Fortunately, he had that to spare; anything, anything was better than allowing himself to be used against his friends again.</p><p>Once he’d gathered all the energy his body could spare, he opened his eye to glared at Thanos.  He had just enough time to take some small satisfaction from the puzzled expression on the Titan’s face before a light blue lightning bolt discharged itself from Thor’s chest.  With it came Thor’s roar of defiance.</p><p>The bolt’s impact launched Thanos on a short trip half way across the room.  Such was its intensity that the impact actually caused the Mad Titan to drop the Mind Stone.  Unfortunately it managed to drift directly into a large concentration of minions.  There was a short scrabble by four or five of them to retrieve it for their master.</p><p>The Titan himself crashed to the ground, flat on his back, a mere four meters ahead of the retreating group, sliding across their path seemingly oblivious to their presence.</p><p>Thor fell forward from the wall where he’d been pinned, barely managing to get his arms up before the swiftly approaching floor could slap him in the face.  Even then, all they managed was to blunt the impact.  His arms crumpled under the strain of his weight like the unibody on a car in an eighty-kilometer head on impact.</p><p>He tried to push himself off of the floor, instead collapsing where he lay.  It wasn’t anything wrong with his battered body.  The engine ran, there just wasn’t any gas in the tank.</p><p>Thanos fared much better overall.  The surprised look he’d worn as the Mind Stone wrought a somewhat opposite effect from normal had vanished before he even hit the ground, replaced with one of . . . anticipation.</p><p>Rhodes pointed one of his stun emitters at him with almost instinctive speed and fired.  It may have affected his intended target for that long before one of his minions jumped in the way.  Then another threw itself at him.  He was able to throw it off, but there was another, and another. </p><p>Their efforts left them completely vulnerable to reprisals swiftly meted out, but they didn’t seem to care.  However much they hadn’t given a damn when he’d used those weapons on them, they clearly understood that The Boss would look unfavorably upon them allowing them to be used on him.</p><p>While his children spent themselves for his protection Thanos sat up slowly, eyes locked onto the prone Asgardian.  The look on his face sent a chill of memory down Cap’s spine.  He’d had more experience with that look in his early life than he’d ever wanted to think about.  It was the look of malicious triumph every bully gave when their victim was helpless.  When they’d won.</p><p>But there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.  He could only watch in fear for his friend as Thanos continued the motion of his hands-free sit up, rolling further forward until he could get one of those massive go-karts he called feet under him.  Then he stood, slowly, savoring the moment of his triumph over this truly annoying group of ants.</p><p>“Let’s try this again,” he said, holding his right hand out towards the minion that had managed to collect The Mind Stone for him.  It held the stone up, centered in the upward turned palm of its hand.  The stone began its slow drift from one palm to another with the inevitability of a train wreck.  There was nothing they could do about it.  Thanos’s body was between them and the stone, effectively eliminating the chance of intercepting it with a missile, improvised or not.  Recent events had pretty much conclusively proven that any such weapon targeted on the Mad Titan himself would only serve to annoy.  In fact, the one weapon that might have worked were the stun pulses integrated into the sleeves of Rhodes’s armor, but Thanos’s children seemed to have grasped that as well. </p><p>They threw themselves at Rhodes with a fanaticism that could not simply be brushed aside.  Individually they were no threat.  And, even in a group they couldn’t harm him; such was their mindless focus that they left themselves open to counterattacks from Rhodes’s allies.  But each time they were batted away they would pick themselves up and charge again. </p><p>The casualty collection point at the other end of the dome was in an equally poor position to effect any change on current events.  They had far less combat power to deal with nearly the same amount of the sisters’ kindred, and the only weapon they possessed that had a chance of hitting the stone at that range was Quill’s rather temperamental blaster.  He tried to shoot the glowing amber stone a few times, not even sure what effect that would have. </p><p>None of his shots connected; in fairness that had less to do with any failing marksmanship on his part and more to do with the hasty repair job he’d performed.  It had been a miracle that he’d managed to cobble the two crippled weapons into one functioning blaster; expecting to get one fully functional blaster out of the improvised transplant operation would have been pushing the bounds of credibility, and probably would have annoyed Lady Luck at the same time.  Even Quill knew better than to get on her bad side.</p><p>The stone reached Thanos’s hand unhindered.  He grasped it between thumb and forefinger and strode briskly back to the origination point of his unexpected flight.  Clearly, he felt he’d gotten as much effect out of the calm, slow routine as possible.  Either that or the casualties among his own ranks that performance was causing were becoming problematic.</p><p>His empty hand snaked out, grasping Thor’s torso less than gently and yanked the Asgardian back up to eye level.  Thor tried to fight back but, in a bitter form of irony, the effort of powering a lightning bolt from nothing but his own reserves of energy had staggered him far longer than it had delayed his enemy.  Thanos responded to his flailing efforts by lifting Thor away from the wall and slamming him back into it, no doubt adding a concussion to his list of injuries.  Thor’s flailing subsided.</p><p>“Now,” Thanos said as if to himself.  He held the stone up and placed it against Thor’s forehead once more.  Thor immediately began to feel himself falling deep into himself again.  The effect was much faster this time; he simply did not have the energy, to put up a good fight.</p><p>And then, suddenly, nothing; Thor opened his eyes in confusion, to see the same condition reflected in Thanos’s face.  Between the thumb and forefinger that had held the means of Thor’s enslavement was only empty air.  Thor followed Thanos’s gaze as he turned to look at the red and blue suited figure lounging effortlessly above the room’s entrance.  He was tossing the mind stone up and down as if it were nothing more than a shiny marble.</p><p>A giddy feeling flowed through Thor as he realized he’d been reprieved.  He started chuckling, whether due to the direness of their straits or the close call with his worst nightmare, he wasn’t sure.  What he was certain of was that as that chuckle turned into a full laugh.  That act did more than just make him feel good; it also returned some small measure of his strength.</p><p>And that brought with it an idea.</p><p>“I’m confiscating this until the end of the semester,” Spiderman called out.  “Or you can get your parents to collect it at the end of the day.”  Thanos squinted at the scrawny figure taunting him.  It seemed like such a nonthreatening creature, yet he could feel a shift in the emotional undercurrent of the room.  Before it had appeared, his adversaries were doomed.  What’s more, they’d known they were doomed.  He’d almost been able to taste their despair.  They’d still fought, of course, but it was more from stubbornness than any sense that they might win.  Now, somehow, this singular presence had given them hope.  And he had no idea how it had taken the mind stone from him.</p><p>He reached into its mind, attempting to ascertain this new threat and was nearly repelled instantly; not from any force of will on his target’s part, but from the strange way its mind worked.  Thanos had studied many psyches in his life.  He’d even ran into the insane variety, like that possessed by his new recruit/temporary chandelier.  But he’d never encountered a mind like this.</p><p>Most minds were a single stream that occasionally branched into new ideas.  This one, however, was more like a lake with boulders slamming into it.  Each new boulder created a ripple that interacted with all the ripples made from previous boulders creating an endless web of possibilities.  That mind was currently analyzing dozens of different possible moves and countermoves, and the moves and countermoves resulting from those moves.  It bounced from possibility to possibility faster than even he could keep up.  He’d never encountered a mind like it.</p><p>But more than that, it intrigued him.  “Who are you?” he demanded.</p><p>“What; they didn’t cover ‘The Reserve’ in supervillain school?” Peter replied innocently.  “By the way, what happened to your face?” he asked curiously.  “It looks like you got a skin transplant from your scrotum.”</p><p>Any response to that snappy remark was put on hold as Thor regained the Titan’s attention.  With Thanos otherwise occupied the Asgardian had managed to grasp the blue stone set in the gauntleted hand that was currently pinning him to the wall. </p><p>At full strength Thor would have probably been able to snatch the stone out of its setting easily, but at his current strength he was barely able to grasp it.  At first there was no noticeable effect, but as he began to separate the stone from its new home it began sparking.  That sparking quickly turned into an arc between the stone and the gauntlet, as if either the gauntlet or the stone (or both) were trying to maintain their connection.  Sometimes that arc would strike Thor’s hand instead of the stone.  Almost any other being would have immediately abandoned such tactics in return for not having that ever happen to them again. </p><p>For Thor that arcing served the same function jumper cables served a failing battery.  He could feel his strength returning with each discharge.  He adjusted his grasp on the stone by rolling it along his forefinger, creating a more stable grip, in preparation to relieve Thanos of it forever.  And who knew, with the nearly unlimited supply of power the Tesseract possessed he might just be able to rid the cosmos of this menace once and for all.</p><p>Unfortunately, electrical discharges also came with side effects: a flashing blue light and very distinct crackling hum that were hard to miss.  Thor barely had time to form a startled look as Thanos’s other hand hammered him into the wall.  Thor’s head was still bouncing from its savage impact against the wall when his captor took one step and hurled him like he was a javelin, right at Spiderman.  Of course, he was barely conscious at the time, so it took a second or two for him to grasp that fact.</p><p>Parker was considerably more on the uptake.  He leapt in a path that would cross just above the Asgardian javelin, and started slight spin.  As the spin brought him around to face his push off point, he webbed the Mind Stone to the wall.  He then continued around, finishing the spin just as he passed over Thor.  He webbed the Avenger’s back, then webbed the ground.  Gripping Thor’s line, he pulled hard on the ground line, while rotating Thor over his head.</p><p>The result was that, instead of flying face first into the wall Peter had so recently vacated, Thor found himself swinging in a long arc.  Peter watched his progress with one eye, while keeping another on Tony’s crew, and a third on Thanos’s attempt to retrieve his wayward stone telekinetically.  Tony’s team was making the most of his distraction, it only took Thanos about a second to pull the stone through the webbing, and it was time to cut Thor loose.</p><p>Thor sailed towards the impromptu casualty collection point at an even greater velocity than Thanos had thrown him, a parting gift from the arc he’d traveled in.  He raised his arms to try and cushion the blow, even as he realized that his bones would probably snap like breadsticks at this velocity.  The others at his destination glanced at him in concern as he streaked over to them, aware that there was nothing they could do to arrest his fate.</p><p>Peter had that covered too.  He no-look-webbed the Mind Stone back to the wall with one hand, while webbing the ceiling with the other.  He pulled himself to where his feet could hold the strand to the ceiling, then re-webbed the errant thunder god’s back.  He used his left hand to apply braking power while his right continued to spool out more web until Thor’s forward velocity reached zero.  Peter released the cable, allowing Thor to fall the last few feet to the floor.  The entire incident, from Peter pushing off of the wall to Thor’s landing, had taken all of three seconds.</p><p>“About time you showed up,” Tony called out as Peter dodged an errant projectile from Thanos, landing on yet another wall.</p><p> “I was going for fashionably late,” Peter replied with a nonchalant shrug.  Then he jumped off the wall just as the Mind Stone, once again freed of its vertical imprisonment, zipped past him.  With his left hand he fired a glob of web at Thanos’s face.  His right webbed the stone and pulled.  That first attempt had the effect of pulling Spiderman along with the stone.  But then the glob hit Thanos in the face.  In that moment of distraction Peter yanked again.</p><p>This time the stone obeyed.  He spun on his long axis and hurled the stone at Tony at a speed that was impossible to intercept.  It was so fast that Tony barely had time to get his right hand between it and his face.  The stone imbedded itself into the already defunct repulsor of that gauntlet.  Tony glanced at the damage in horror, as the thought of what might have been stared up at him.</p><p>Before he could voice his displeasure one of Thanos’s minions attacked him from the right.  He dodged the blow, glanced from the attacker to his newly acquired stone, and then jammed the palm of his right hand onto the thing’s forehead.  It immediately froze.</p><p>“Get us out of here,” he ordered it.</p><p>“I hear and obey,” the monstrosity replied before falling in with the group.  It gained a few startled looks from the others, but they seemed to take the change of heart in stride.  Tony was just picking out new friend number two when Steve’s voice brought him up short.</p><p>“Tony,” he barked, indicating Thanos’s direction with a quick head jerk.  Tony looked past him to where Thanos had managed to get a grip on Peter.</p><p>Not that Peter hadn’t tried to avoid him.  Unfortunately, that first yank on the Mind Stone had sent him sailing directly into the Titan’s path.  Once he’d offloaded the Mind Stone, he’d tried to web himself to a wall and out of the monster’s path, but there simply hadn’t been enough time to pull off such a maneuver.  And now he’d succeeded only in taking Thor’s place.</p><p>“What about you brings them hope?” Thanos demanded, holding Parker up to his face as if to examine an interesting bug.</p><p>“Hope?” Peter couldn’t stop himself from asking.  “Do you see a stylized S on my suit that suggest an advanced alien race would cling to hieroglyphics?”</p><p>Tony’s eyes locked with Rhodes’s for a fraction of a second, one warrior pleading with another.  “Go,” Tony agreed.  Rhodes was gone before Tony had finished that rather short word.  He blasted into the air directly for Thanos</p><p>Thanos glanced at Peter’s suit.  “All I see is a bug,” he replied before attempting to slam the young man into the wall.  Peter grasped one of those mammoth fingers holding him and used it as leverage to twist himself around in Thanos’s grip, neatly placing his legs between him and the approaching hard surface.  To Thanos’s shock Peter absorbed the power of his attack in his legs, and even managed to push himself back from the wall. </p><p>“What?” Thanos demanded incredulously.  He’d encountered very few beings that matched his strength.  And never had any of them appeared so frail. </p><p>That one syllable question was all he got out before Rhodes came into concussion pulse range.  Such was Rhodes’s haste to save the kid that his speed by the time he entered that range made it impossible to stop prior to reaching his target while maintaining one of his disruptors on it. The Titan capitalized on that mistake by backhanding Rhodes with such force that the black suit went cartwheeling across the room.</p><p>But, before he could turn back to squashing Spiderman like a bug, a much more difficult endeavor than he’d originally expected materialized; Thor delivered a rather indignant right cross with his hammer.  Peter used the shift in weight from the blow to work out from the Titan’s grasp and escape.</p><p>“Kid!” Tony called over his com.  He’d been busily recruiting new allies with the mind stone, forming a solid wedge of enemy linebackers for their group to follow.  At the pace they were going he figured they’d be out of the room in thirty seconds. </p><p>“Yeah?” Peter asked as he simultaneously dodged a massive purple fist and webbed said fist to the owner’s opposite boot.</p><p>“Bad Santa got stuck in the chimney,” Stark said, trusting the kid to parse.  Peter looked up, spotting Deadpool’s form amidst the upper part of the dome.  Deadpool rotated his left hand back and forth around its wrist, the closest his broken body could come to waving at the sudden attention.</p><p>“On it,” Peter called just as he performed a no look backflip over another of Thanos’s attacks.  In response he webbed the Titan’s eyebrows, yanking hard on the strands to double kick him in the face, and then used said face as a springboard to launch himself into the air.</p><p>Thanos bellowed and made a snatch for the Peter; the lithe red and blue suit turned out to be just out of reach.  He attempted to correct that failure with a telekinetic grab, but by that point Rhodes had returned.  He and Thor were able to keep the Titan too busy to worry about Peter or Deadpool.</p><p>Despite the similar circumstances, there position was much more precarious than it had been the last time they’d teamed up against the Mad Titan.  Thor was reeling like a drunk from the exertions and injuries of the prolonged fight, the minor charge he’d gotten from the Tesseract notwithstanding, and Rhodes’s armor was starting to show serious signs of wear despite its heavier design.  One of the concussion pulse emitters had been crushed, and several dents were interfering with full range of motion.  Not to mention the fact that it was nearly out of expendable munitions.</p><p>Just keeping Thanos from interfering with the rescue operation was a Herculean task, which meant they were completely out of position when Thanos switched focus to Tony.  Before they could react, he snatched the inventor telekinetically and slammed him back against the wall they’d rescued Drax from. </p><p>Steve reacted instinctively, trying to reach Tony to do . . .  something.  Had he had a moment to think it through he’d have realized there was nothing he could do.  As it was, he was just lucky he’d been too slow to actually grab his friend.</p><p>That maneuver left Thanos open to retaliation from the other two, yet no matter how hard they tried they could do little more than interrupt him.  If it hadn’t been for the minor damage they’d caused to his face and armor they’d have assumed he was completely impervious to their attacks.</p><p>If he wasn’t, he was close enough to it to ensure his victory if they let the battle fall to attrition.  Tony could see that clearer than anyone from where he was pinned to the wall.  He knew they needed to end this now.  He knew they were all only a couple of lucky hits from dead.</p><p>He looked over at his left palm, to the yellow gem embedded therein, the germ of an idea forming.  It wasn’t what one would call a good idea.  It was, at best, the least bad idea he could come up with.</p><p>He reached over and wrestled the gem from his gauntlet.  Then he watched the ongoing fight, and Peter’s progress simultaneously.  As Peter got Deadpool to the safety of their collection point he activated his com.</p><p>“Peter,” he said, trying to figure out how to short circuit the argument he knew was coming.  “listen carefully.”</p><p>Peter straightened from setting Deadpool down and looked across the room to Tony.  “Yes Mr. Stark?” he asked, in a voice that suggested he already knew what he was going to hear.</p><p>“I need you to start moving the wounded into the next room,” Tony started.  “As soon as that’s done you blind Thanos.  Be ready to receive the Mind Stone, and get the hell out of here.”</p><p>“Mr. Stark, what about you?” Peter asked.</p><p>“I’ll buy you time to get to the surface and scatter,” Tony said, praying the kid wouldn’t argue.  They didn’t have time for a lively debate on the best possible strategies to keep Thanos from his goal.</p><p>For once Tony got his wish.  The kid didn’t argue.  “Like hell you will Tony,” Rhodes said cutting in.  Tony winced at that; he’d forgotten that Rhodes also had a working communicator.</p><p>“Rhodey, it’s the only way,” Tony pleaded, as he watched the holding group start to move the injured to the next room.</p><p>“You are not blowing yourself up, Tony.  That’s final,” Rhodes said, his voice tougher than the steel his suit was made from.</p><p>“Do you have a better idea?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Any idea is better than that!” Rhodes shouted as he dodged yet another blow.</p><p>“We don’t have any other ideas Rhodey,” Tony reminded him.  “We have this one.”</p><p>“Then I’ll do it,” Rhodes snapped.</p><p>“No!” Tony yelled automatically.</p><p>“Tony, it’s safe to say we’re going to lose this one,” Rhodes said patiently.  He was hovering a safe distance from Thanos while playing his remaining concussion pulse over Thanos’s body.  “You’re one of this pickup group’s leaders, not to mention the fact that you’re also our best bet to figure out how to stop this bastard.  And, lastly, my suit makes a bigger bang than yours.”</p><p>“I’m also the one pinned to the wall furthest from our exit in a barely functioning suit,” Tony argued.  Sadly, he had a point, and they all knew it.  Try as he might Rhodes could not come up with a good counterpoint.</p><p>“I can fix that,” Peter announced, swinging towards Thanos.  The hulking purple gorilla saw him coming and grinned in anticipation.  As Peter came into range one of his massive hands snapped out to grab the annoying teenager.  But Peter had anticipated, indeed had counted on, that reaction, though he hadn’t quite expected the speed with which it was conducted.  At the last moment Peter pulled on his strand just enough to clear that groping paw.  Realizing that wouldn’t be enough he tucked his legs up to his chest and released his line.  He passed over Thanos’s arm in mid back flip, coming around just in time to fire webbing into the monster’s eyes.  Then he did the splits to clear the Titan’s head, landed, and webbed both sides of his target’s pauldrons.   Holding himself to the ground with his feet, he pulled with every ounce of strength he had.</p><p>Thanos found himself flying in a tight arc that ended quite abruptly on the ground in front of Peter.  Before he knew what was happening Peter had him hog tied with two-ton tensile strength webbing.  “Clear!” Peter yelled, standing with one foot placed on Thanos’s prone body, Captain Morgan style.  He wasn’t actually sure if that was what you were supposed to say when you finished hog tying something; he’d never been interested in such events in the past.  It just seemed like he should say something.</p><p>Thanos did not react well.  For one priceless moment everything gave way to his fury.  He forgot about keeping Tony pinned to the wall.  The concussion pulse being played over him had more the effect of an old memory. He didn’t even notice Thor’s mad dash to try once again to wrest the Tesseract from his gauntlet.  There was only fury, and the need to avenge this humiliation on the teenager.  Thanos growled in anger as he flexed every muscle in his body, straining with all his might against his captor’s cords.</p><p>Tony flicked the Mind Stone over to the group by the door just as Thanos’s attention was dragged away from him, dropping him rudely to the ground.  More to the point, he had Friday flick the Mind Stone.  Despite her normal perfection in such things he found himself watching the tiny gem’s path to make sure it was on course.  But whatever damage she’d suffered during the fight hadn’t affected her ability to compute trajectories; the amber stone flashed across the cavern looking as if it would hit Drax dead in the face.  Fortunately, that targeted noted the approaching projectile and prepared to catch it.</p><p>It never arrived.  Despite wearing a webbing blindfold, despite being hogtied, despite being blind with rage, Thanos somehow knew exactly where the stone was.  As it approached Drax’s hand the stone veered and accelerated towards the purple monster.</p><p>Based on the briefing they’d received detailing Thanos’s capabilities Peter was under no illusions as to the limited time his cattle rustling would be effective.  Thor, despite his attempts to warn him off, wasn’t.   So, while Peter jumped to the safety of the wall Thanos had so recently used to pin Thor, the Asgardian took the full force of Thanos’s descending fist and found himself tumbling uncontrollably across the ground.  Thanos leapt to his feet, catching the amber stone as if the entire event had been choreographed and rehearsed repeatedly.</p><p>Peter and Tony both stared at the figure for half a second as their minds reeled with the implications of that act.  In retrospect it should have been obvious that, while Thanos clearly needed line of sight for his telekinetic powers, he did not in fact need to see what he was manipulating; he’d proven that as he fought Rhodes and Thor.</p><p>But the worse part of that was that he had known where the Mind Stone was, meaning that there was simply no way they were going to deprive him of it.  Tony’s original plan had been to bury the bastard under a few tons of ceiling.  By the time he dug himself out, the group could have hidden somewhere on the planet.  But who knew how far this sense went?  If he had the time, he could have probably discerned a way to hide it from whatever means Thanos was using to detect it, but there just wasn’t any.  Those means clearly weren’t intergalactic in range, but what if they were the same means he’d used to pinpoint The Statesman?  What if he could find them anywhere on the planet?  They couldn’t possibly leave with his ship in orbit, and they couldn’t remain.  Keeping the stone had just become akin to playing a shell game with an active beeper in place of the nut.</p><p>“Colonel Rhodes, would you please retrieve Mr. Stark?” Peter asked politely, but somewhat preoccupied.  He barely noted Thor tumbling away as that train of thought ran its course.</p><p>Rhodes glanced from Peter to Thanos as the latter worked to remove the webbing from his eyes with those hammer sized fingers of his.  With a shrug he took off, wondering if it was fair to Thanos to leave them alone.</p><p>Meanwhile Peter was splitting his time between concocting a new plan to delay Thanos, worrying about how long it was taking Thor to get back on his feet, and dodging a half blind haymaker from Thanos.  He’d managed to telekinetically remove the webbing from one eyelid, but based on how he was rubbing it Peter figured some of that eyelid had gone with it.</p><p>And Thor still wasn’t completely back on his feet.  Peter watched the Asgardian out of the corner of his eye, wondering what he could do to help him.  He felt like there was something he could do.  This niggling voice in the back of his head told him he could, while simultaneously refusing to explain how.  He hated it when it did that.</p><p>Still pondering that puzzle, he leapt over another of Thanos’s swings, only to find himself caught in midair.  He tried to web the ground to pull himself free, but he simply wouldn’t budge.  Thanos grinned as he calmly reached out with his gauntleted hand to pluck the helpless teenager from the air.  He grasped him around the body, pinning Peter’s arms to his sides and <em>slammed</em> him into the wall.</p><p>Peter did the best he could to mitigate that hit, but truthfully there wasn’t much he could do the way he was pinned.  For a moment he swore he could see stars.  He wasn’t sure how Thor could have possibly taken so many hits like that and be breathing, let alone still staggering around. </p><p>When his vision cleared, Peter found himself staring at the gauntlet that held him.  His eyes focused, almost of their own accord, on the tesseract as his mind replayed the events just after he’d snagged the Mind Stone.  Thor had made a grab for the Tesseract.  As it was removed the stone started emitting little arcs of electricity . . . arcs that seemed to increase Thor’s strength.  Apparently, the little guy in the back of his mind had decided to be more helpful than usual.</p><p>Perhaps that was due to the large fist rocketing towards him.</p><p>“Karen,” Peter whispered hurriedly “switch to shock webbing.”  He barely got that one command out before that fist smashed his head into the rock.  The fist reared back momentarily, halting like a piston at top dead center; then it returned, again, and again.  Clearly Thanos was intending to make a point about the consequences of humiliating him. </p><p>The only thing that saved Peter’s life was, ironically, the size of Thanos’s fist.  The rock the first hit had jammed his head into took most of the force of those repeating impacts.</p><p>That and the fact that Thor cast his hammer at the back of Thanos’s head with such force that the Titan found his own face buried in the rock.  He peeled himself off of the wall and turned to see the Asgardian struggling to get back up.  He’d been so set on getting as much power into his throw as possible that it had also overbalanced him.</p><p>“A pathetic effort,” Thanos sneered at the Asgardian.</p><p>“Shock webbing activated,” Karen replied, also in a whisper.  Peter tried to focus, but between his entire face hurting and the land mine sized concussion those blows had caused, his entire world seemed to be swimming.  He wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to do.  He was supposed to do something, he was certain.  But ‘take a nap’ was all that came to mind.</p><p>“Administering stimulant,” Karen said even more quietly, concern apparent in her synthesized voice.  The ‘stimulant’ in question was a collaboration in progress between Peter and Tony.  Despite the name, it was far more than a simple stimulant.  It was designed to turn Peter’s ability to regenerate up by a factor of ten while giving his body the energy it needed to use it.  They’d run several promising computer simulations with it, but the truth was that this drug was designed to be used as an emergency measure.  That necessitated Peter having taken severe amounts of damage, a condition they’d been rather hesitant to test in the lab.  In truth they didn’t know what would happen.</p><p>It was, however, clear what would happen if it wasn’t used.</p><p>Peter’s eyes snapped open as his heart began pounding in his chest.  He could feel his blood pressure rising to that of a dismembered person in a Quinten Tarantino movie.  His entire face felt itchy as his healing factor worked to repair the damage.  But, most importantly, his vision cleared; it was as if a brisk wind had blown a cloud of fog out of his brain.</p><p>Peter focused on Thor, trying his best to judge his aim.  It wasn’t exactly an easy task, what with his pounding pulse, and suddenly quivering muscles, or the fact that his arms were still pinned to his sides just above the elbow.  Karen tried to help by superimposing a reticle representing his aim point, but it bounced over his body like a moth on Ritalin.</p><p>Peter took a deep breath and held it in an attempt to steady his pulse, but the bouncing reticle was completely undaunted.  He knew that he had to get the first shot right; even a blind fool would have no trouble figuring out what he was up to, and he had no doubt what would happen then.  He couldn’t even use the other arm due to Thanos’s bulk blocking the way.</p><p>Realizing that he didn’t stand a chance of steadying his aim, Peter focused on looking for a pattern in the madness, a point when he could fire just as the reticle was about to cross his target.</p><p>“Screw it,” he muttered in irritation before firing, more on impulse than conscious plan.  But, however he’d done it, the electrified web flew true, hitting Thor in the arm.</p><p>As the care package impacted him Thor jerked spasmodically, just as anyone else would have reacted.  For a moment Peter was certain he’d miscalculated, that his assumptions had only made things worse.  But only for a moment.</p><p>“ANOTHER!” Thor yelled as he regained himself.</p><p>By that point Thanos had turned back to Peter, a look of surprise and disgust mingling drunkenly on his face.  Panic at the sudden forecast of another pummeling froze Peter’s veins.  But if panic froze his veins, it proved to be quite motivational for his trigger finger.  Peter loosed a barrage of electrified globs of web at the Asgardian.  Many missed.  More than enough hit.</p><p>Thanos glared short swords at Peter.  The fact that the precocious teen was able to function at all after the pummeling he’d just administered was a bit of a shock; the fact that he’d been clear headed enough to make an intelligent decision was downright disturbing.</p><p>In an ideal world he’d have continued pounding the little shit into a fine layer of amorphous goo, but he now had a somewhat capable Asgardian king at his back, not to mention a rapidly closing window before Rhodes returned.  Instead he javelin threw the kid into the wall across the room, where he’d keep until Thanos finished dealing with the rest of his friends.</p><p>At least that was his intention.  In actuality things went a bit different.  Peter was barely out of his grasp before he webbed Rhodes, who happened to be on his return trip from dropping Tony off at the exit.  Fortunately, his lack of mass meant Rhodes only had to make a few minor course corrections as Peter swung in a wide arc around him.</p><p>As he came around, he saw Thor in the process of an overhand swing aimed at Thanos’s head.  Sadly, Thanos also saw it; he caught the hammer at the apex of its swing, arresting its motion entirely.  He lifted the hammer, and a reluctant to release Thor, further off the ground.  As the hammer reached a point that left Thor standing on the tips of his toes, Thanos jabbed his closed fist at him.</p><p>Thor saw that coming as well.  He pulled himself to the side, wrapping his legs around the striking limb.  By that point Peter arrived.  He’d been concerned about lobbing any webbing at the two from further out, but just before he landed he took another shot at Thanos’s face.  Somehow the Titan managed to move that massive target out of the way of that one shot, but the maneuver put him slightly off balance.</p><p>Before he could regain it, Peter grabbed the closed fist Thor was keeping immobile and pulled it away from its owner’s body.  His other hand formed a knife edge and jabbed at the underside of the wrist, hoping Titans also possessed the nerve plexus that ran there.  Evolutionarily speaking, form followed function, making the inner wrist a well-protected spot to place a nerve conduit.  Then again, evolution was responsible for the platypus.</p><p>The hand jerked open, informing him even before Thanos’s stunned roar that (this time) evolution was on his side.  Peter’s hand darted into that gaping maw of a hand, pulling the Mind Stone out before it could close again.</p><p>Thanos immediately forgot about hammers and Asgardians.  He dropped the hammer, swung the other arm in a wide arc that threw Thor out of position, and slammed his gauntleted hand down at Peter like an avenging sledgehammer.  Peter jumped outside the blow and slammed the Mind Stone into one of the empty slots on the gauntlet as it passed him.</p><p>Everyone stopped for a half second as they processed what he’d just done.  Their expressions ran the gamut from confused to outraged that he’d take such a unilateral decision for the group.  Only Tony seemed to grasp Peter’s reasoning.</p><p>“NO!” Thanos yelled, making a mad swipe for him.  Peter webbed the ground and pulled.  He folded his knees underneath himself and lay as flat as possible on the ground as he passed under the blow.  He came up from the slide in front of the Titan and fired two globs from each web slinger into Thanos’s face, ensuring complete coverage of his eyes.</p><p>“Now you know how your girlfriend feels!” Peter called out whilst considering his next move.  He could have webbed the monster’s chest and sent him into the walls behind him, but Peter wanted him as far from the exit as possible, which meant getting around him.  There were several options: the high road (an oldy but a goody), the low road, or either side road.  Each held a risk.</p><p>This time Peter opted for the low road, neatly avoiding Thanos’s defense of the more anticipated high road.  So, while Thanos blindly swiped at the air above him in a vain effort to ward him off, Peter webbed the ground between his feet.  Again he went sliding, this time right between those tree stumps Thanos laughingly called legs.</p><p>Then came the now familiar no look backwards webbing of Thanos’s Pauldrons.  But this time was a little different.  This time Peter pulled with every ounce of strength he could possibly muster.  And, instead of slamming Thanos into the ground (no matter how cathartic such an activity might have been) Peter released the errant Titan just past the apex of the swing.</p><p>Thanos shot into the opposite wall a few feet above the ground as if fired from a cannon; a really, really big cannon.  By blind luck Thanos hit between seams in the wall’s hardened metal paneling and slammed right past them into the rock behind.</p><p>Rhodes and Thor were quick on the jump, both flying up to the hole.  Rhodes trained his concussion pulse into the hole Thanos’s passage had created and cranked the intensity up to a hundred and twenty percent.  Thor began casting his hammer repeatedly at the walls around it, trying to cave in the hole.  The metal panels caused something of an issue with that though.  They’d also caved in at Thanos’s passage, creating severely bent semi walls that were holding the improvised tunnel up.  He tried to dislodge them with his hammer, but they just bent further.</p><p>By that point Peter had caught up to them.  He webbed one panel with two strands and handed the other ends to Thor.  He then webbed another.  Between the two of them they had the makeshift supports cleared in a couple of seconds.</p><p>Peter jumped up to the edge of the hole and fired a stream of webbing at Thanos’s thrashing form, making sure to keep just out of the effect of Rhodes’s ray.  He knew the strands wouldn’t hold for long, but every second gained was priceless.  Meanwhile Thor continued his deconstructive efforts.  After a few more hammer throws the entire tunnel started collapsing.</p><p>“Time to go!” Rhodes yelled as falling debris blocked his pulse.  He grabbed Peter and Thor by the scruff of the neck and blasted towards their exit with such reckless speed that his braking maneuvers carried them inside the tunnel itself.</p><p>The others immediately fell back from the line they’d been holding against the remainder of Thanos’s minions.  All except Tony at the other side of the cavern.  He braced his feet in preparation to blast off.  He knew he couldn’t fly well, but then, all that really mattered was that he not be in line with the group’s entrance before he detonated.</p><p>But as the boot jets fired a strand of webbing attached itself to his back.  A quick jerk on the line altered his course from ‘somewhere that-a-way’ to down the exit tunnel.  He quickly shut off the jets and prepared for an uncontrolled landing.  He came sliding to a halt on his back half way down the five-meter tunnel between the two rooms.</p><p>“Peter, what the hell are you doing?!” he demanded without bothering to get up.</p><p>“Adjusting your plan,” Peter replied quickly, stalking back to the entrance.  Rhodes followed, concussion pulse pointed over Peter’s shoulder.  He fired a single rocket at those of Thanos’s children that had managed to make it into the tunnel as Peter webbed the paneling at the edge of the tunnel.</p><p>“I’ve only got three more missiles,” Rhodes called warningly as Peter grunted against the stubborn plating.  Being that this particular area hadn’t taken any of the abuse the previous room had, it took some effort to dislodge the first one. </p><p>Ironically, it came free at nearly the same instant that Thanos emerged from his temporary tomb with a shotgun blast of loose gravel.  The Titan took one look at what they were attempting and launched himself in a massive bound at their exit.  They all knew they were looking at death.  In that confined space Thanos would kill them all with very little effort.</p><p>Peter quickly ripped another panel down.  This one was much easier, either due to the lack of structural support from its predecessor or the sudden fear seeing that monster flying towards him elicited, he wasn’t sure.  Probably a little of column A and a little of column B if he was going to be honest.</p><p>Thor cast his hammer at the naked sections of roofing, but all he accomplished was the raining down of a small amount of dust from the opening.  The plating around the entrance inside the dome had been largely left intact and there wasn’t enough exposed rock inside the tunnel yet.  And Thanos was coming like a missile.  Thor was only able to cast the hammer twice in his flight.</p><p>Just before he did Rhodes released another of his precious stockpile of missiles.  There simply wasn’t enough time for Thanos to react; it hit him in the side, doing little damage.  But the explosion did alter his course.  Not much, but enough for it to end with him slamming into the wall next to the exit, as opposed to down the tunnel.</p><p>Peter ripped another two panels down simultaneously, as Thor redoubled his efforts.  By the time Thanos had peeled himself from his latest crater large chunks of ceiling were collapsing, burying the tunnel.  Peter and Thor walked backwards in unison, pulling panels down, and expanding the collapsing ceiling with the hammer, respectively.</p><p>As they backed into the next room they broke into a run towards the next tunnel, to repeat the process.  They worked frantically to collapse that one as well.  There last sight of their first cave-in was of some of the rock trembling, as if something very large and angry were right on the other side.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Heroes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Outside the Sanctuary</p><p>In Orbit of Xandar Prime</p><p> </p><p>Clint had a few seconds before he needed to make any more decisions.  The ship was on course.  He was far too close, moving far too fast to entertain the notion of any further evasive maneuvers.  Either his insane gambit would work or it wouldn’t.</p><p>As it turned out, a few seconds is more than enough time to review one’s life choices.  Not their entire life of course; he’d never believed the idea of one’s life flashing before their eyes.  Even at the speeds the human brain was capable of, that just wasn’t possible.  But it was certainly enough time to hit the high points. </p><p>He tried focusing on his family, but found himself dwelling on two moments: breaking Wanda out of the Avenger’s facility, and how he’d arrived at this moment with time to consider other moments . . .</p><p>He’d been monitoring the group’s progress with the Nova Prime, whatever the hell rank that actually was.  He’d grudgingly had to admit that leaving someone behind to play overwatch had been a good idea, and that he was probably the best choice.  After all, he’d performed that very function for the group several times already.</p><p>He’d been able to communicate various warnings to members of the party throughout the fight via a repeater array in the caverns the Xandarians had graciously allowed him the use of, a minor detail Tony had overlooked when he’d suggested Clint stay behind.  Most of those communications had been to Wanda, who’d focused most of her effort in the battle on crowd control tactics. </p><p>He’d also had to grudgingly admit that Tony’s suits had given the group a decisive tactical and strategic advantage through the moving fight.  Even with so many of said suits’ users so clearly unaccustomed to them, the group was plowing through fight after fight with very little resistance.  They’d even decisively gained the upper hand in the final room without the loss of a single ally. </p><p>Then Thanos had shown up.  Clint still had no idea where the purple monster had been; as far as he knew nothing could have been more important to him than securing an infinity stone.  Had he been able to see the Titan’s right hand it would have been obvious where the Titan had been, what he’d been doing, and who he’d probably been killing.</p><p>But nearly all of the remaining cameras in the dome were near its top.  The rest had been rendered inoperable, one by one, as the battle had progressed.  That had suited him fine while performing his function of overwatch; a top down view gave him the best overall view of the battle.    It also allowed Thanos’s pauldrons to block line of sight to his right fist, in which was contained one Mind Stone.</p><p>Then the screen went blank.</p><p>“What just happened?” the Nova Prime asked in a rather alarmed voice.  Clint didn’t blame her.  He’d found the imagery quite alarming himself.</p><p>“I’m not sure, sir,” the tech at the station stammered as he frantically punched commands into the terminal.  Changing cameras did nothing.  Rebooting the system did nothing.  Bringing up a thumbnail list of all the cameras in that area showed that every camera in that room and the adjoining rooms for nearly half a mile were down. </p><p>While the tech and the Nova Prime worked on that, Clint tried contacting the group.  He started by trying to get Steve, but there was no response.  Next, he tried Wanda; still nothing.  Then he started running through the list, trying to contact anyone.  Nothing.</p><p>“The repeater network’s down too,” the tech said, cutting into his frantic attempts.</p><p>“Alright, rewind the video to ten seconds before we lost the feed,” Clint ordered.</p><p>“Um . . . right,” the tech said as if having to parse his command.  Clint nearly snapped at him, but a small voice in his head reminded him that this was an alien culture with alien phraseology.  It was strange enough that they spoke English; to expect them to use the exact same nomenclature would have been ridiculous.  For all he knew, the local phrasing for his command would have been along the lines of ‘backtrack the picture to ten seconds before signal loss’.</p><p>“Alright, can you run it at one tenth speed?” Clint asked, hoping he’d put it in as simple a form as possible.</p><p>“Right,” the tech said, starting the video.</p><p>“Okay, okay,” Clint said more to himself as he analyzed the video.  There was Thanos.  He was just raising his hand, that smug look plastered all over his face.</p><p>“Wait, what was that?” He asked as a pulse was emitted from the gauntlet.  “Back it up again?” he added, leaning in closer.  A few key strokes and the pulse started over again.  At slow motion he saw it envelop another suit; the suit began sparking slightly, as if hit by an electric current.</p><p>“Shit,” Clint cursed vehemently, standing back up.  He knew what that was, and he knew why he couldn’t raise the group.  They were all dead.  Or they would be soon.  And there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.</p><p>“You know what that is?” the Prime demanded, pointing at the screen as the image replayed yet again.</p><p>“It’s an EMP,” Clint stated simply.  Then, to their confused looks “An electro-magnetic pulse; it’s given off by nuclear explosions.”  Still they wore blank looks.  “Ah, explosions caused by combining atoms, or breaking them apart,” he added.  Partial understanding dawned on their faces.  “These explosions released a sort of static wave of electricity that destroys improperly shielded electronics.”</p><p>“Such as the repeater and the camera system,” the Prime said as understanding dawned.</p><p>“And Tony’s suits,” Clint added bitterly.</p><p>“Surely your friend would have shielded against such devices?” she asked hopefully.</p><p>“I’m sure he would have,” Clint replied “but I’ve never heard of an EMP so strong that it was visible.  I doubt the suits can handle that.”</p><p>“I see,” the Prime said in a disappointed voice while Clint tried to figure out what to do.  But there was nothing he could do.  It was a several minute flight just down the shaft they’d taken.  It would be another five or ten to get to the chamber, and he wasn’t entirely sure what one functioning suit would be capable of.</p><p>“Ma’am,” another tech called from a few meters down the raised dais they were on “I’m receiving a communication for the Guardians of the Galaxy.”</p><p>“Route it to console Thirteen-J,” the Prime called.  A moment later Rocket’s voice came through the console’s speakers.</p><p>“Quill,” he said.  “Stop combing your hair and answer!”</p><p>Clint looked a question at the Prime, who nodded at the tech.  He pressed a button on his keyboard before nodding, in turn, to Clint.  “This is Clint,” he said.</p><p>“Who?” Rocket demanded.  “Where’s Quill?”</p><p>“He’s . . . their out of contact,” Clint said, not wanting to get into explaining just how badly things had gone.</p><p>“Right, and you are?” Rocket asked suspiciously.</p><p>“This is Hawkeye,” he replied.</p><p>“Yeah, look; all you Earthers look alike to me,” Rocket replied.</p><p>Clint sighed.  “Bow-guy,” he said through grit teeth.</p><p>“Oh, great,” came the sardonic response “the low-tech guy!”</p><p>Clint chose to ignore it.  “What’s going on?” he asked instead.</p><p>“What’s going on?!” Rocket nearly yelled.  “Thanos took the Mind Stone.  The maroon guy is locked in neutronium stocks, which is actually kind of funny.  The big black Asgardian is dead, which isn’t.  Everyone else is injured in various degrees, and I’ve spent the last five minutes jury rigging a replacement comm panel.  Basically, the worst day of our lives.  What’s going on with you?”</p><p>Clint closed his eyes, suppressing a tirade of cursing.  So that’s where Thanos had been.  And that’s why they’d been unable to communicate with the ship.  He should have realized that the only thing more important than securing an Infinity Stone would be securing two.</p><p>And if Thanos had managed to get both, then there was only one Infinity Stone still out of his grasp.  The one on Earth . . .</p><p>His mind stumbled over that realization.  Earth was where the last stone was.  Earth was where his family was.  Earth was where Thanos was going next.</p><p>“Rocket, are you still in orbit?” he asked.</p><p>“Of course we’re not in orbit,” he said.  Clint winced at that, but at least the ship was safe for a moment.  “Would you sit around waiting to be inducted into the psycho family?”</p><p>“Where are you?” Clint asked.</p><p>“Like I’m going to tell you that over an unsecure channel,” Rocket replied.  “We made a small hyperspace jump.  Let’s just leave it at that.”</p><p>“Fine,” he said into the mic “I need you to get a message to Earth.  That’s where the last Infinity Stone is.”</p><p>“WHAT?!” Rocket yelled into the mic. “You mean none of us had to come here at all?  All we had to do was stay where we were?”</p><p>“Believe me the irony is not lost on anyone here either,” Clint replied sarcastically.  “I need you to route the message as follows,” he continued before rattling off a string of destinations that would inevitably lead to Nick Fury.  “Tell them that they have to find the stone and get it off of Earth.”</p><p>“Right,” Rocket replied, sarcasm dripping from that one syllable word.  “Any particular place on the planet?” Clint referred the question to the Prime with a look. </p><p>She shook her head.  “We have no idea where it is.  Our information simply states that it was entrusted to a powerful sorcerer on Earth, millennia ago.”</p><p>Clint frowned in confusion.  He wasn’t aware of any sorcerer’s on Earth past or present.  And he’d been part of an organization that made it its point to know things like that.</p><p>He turned back to the mic.  “I don’t suppose that means anything to anyone there, does it?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah because the entire galaxy spends all of its time keeping up with the people on one underdeveloped hick planet,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“What about Vision?” Clint asked through grit teeth.  If the three-foot nothing rodent thought he was the only one having a bad day he was sorely confused.</p><p>“Hang on,” Rocket replied, followed by the sound of him yelling across the room, presumably at the immobilized construct.  “He says Wanda is the only sorcerer he’s aware of,” Rocket said.</p><p>“Alright, just make sure the message includes the fact that it was entrusted to a sorcerer.  Hopefully Fury will be able to figure out where it is.”</p><p>“Great, now he’s got an emotion searching for the stone,” Rocket replied as if to someone away from the mic.  “I sure hope you have a plan B,” he added.</p><p>“Working on it,” Clint replied, before turning back to the Prime.  “We have to stop Thanos here,” he said with more than a touch of desperation in his voice.</p><p>“I’m open to suggestions,” she replied dryly.  He winced at her tone.  Here he was, suddenly desperate to stop this nightmare from occurring on his own world, to his own family.  And he was demanding someone who was already staring the nightmare in the face do something, like she’d been holding back.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, “but there must be something we can do.”  Her expression suggested otherwise.  “Could we destroy his ship?” he asked.</p><p>She shrugged.  “It is possible, but his ship is very powerful.  It’s already destroyed the ready fleet protecting Xandar Prime for negligible damage.”</p><p>“But you do have more ships,” Clint prodded.</p><p>“We have a larger fleet assembling at a safe distance,” she admitted.  “But even if it could destroy his ship, and I’m not certain it can, he would only take one of ours.  Even if we destroyed our own to prevent their, capture he’d only force my people to build another.  And the consequences to Xandar for such defiance would be severe.”</p><p>“How long does it take to build a warship?” Clint asked more in curiosity than from any desire to supplant one planet’s suffering with another.</p><p>“With an entire planet focused on the goal?” she asked pointedly.  “Perhaps a month.”</p><p>“Alright, so we have to destroy the ship with him on it,” Clint said, thinking desperately. </p><p>“It is unlikely he would remain in orbit once he boards his vessel,” she said.  “I expect he would want to head immediately to Earth.  I guarantee our vessels could not destroy his, or even damage his hyper drive, before he could depart.”</p><p>“Okay, okay,” he said, clearly thinking out loud “what if we got a bomb on board?”</p><p>She shrugged.  “Theoretically, if you could destroy the hyperspace window generator as the ship was crossing the hyperspace threshold, the collapse could cause all matter in its radius to be converted to energy.  But I don’t see how you could get a bomb big enough to do the job onboard.”</p><p>Clint grinned bitterly.  “These suits <em>are</em> bombs,” he told her.  “Or, at least, they can be in a pinch.”</p><p>“You intend to overload your . . . what did you call it, arc reactor?” she asked.</p><p>He nodded.  “Stark warned us yesterday before he’d let us try the suits out,” he said.  “I don’t claim to understand the specifics, and he was actually talking about the interlocks designed to keep it from happening, but he said that if you ran the reactor full open without using the power it created, a field that cancels the weak nuclear force is created.  That’s what we call the force that keeps electrons away from the nucleus of an atom,” he added.</p><p>“And you could do this?” she asked.</p><p>He shrugged.  “With the number of times he’s risked his own life to complete a mission I’d have been surprised if he’d removed the option entirely from his suit.  I doubted it would have occurred to him to remove it from his loaners, so the first thing I did was find the command path.”  He gave a wry grin.  “Ironically that was so I could make sure I never activated it.”</p><p>She returned his grin, more in sympathy than amusement.  “I admire your willingness to sacrifice yourself for your people, but if your timing is only a little off the ship will remain intact.  At best you would drop it out of hyperspace in the void.  At worst it would never enter hyperspace, and it would take far less time to build a replacement hyperdrive for his ship than to build the ship.  You would buy, at most, a few days.”</p><p>He looked her in the eye.  “Then I’ll err on the side of late,” he said.  “All we have to do is buy enough time for The Statesman to get to Earth, find the stone, and leave.”</p><p>“I feel it necessary to point out that the last time Thanos was convinced of the location of an Infinity stone he destroyed an entire civilization to find it.  I imagine nothing short of that would convince him it wasn’t on Earth as well.” That gave him pause for a moment.  The idea that his sacrifice could bring the very destruction on his family he was trying to head off was a bitter one. </p><p>But there was a solution there as well.  “Not if Earth tells him where it went,” he said.  “I doubt he’d waste the time for revenge if he thought he knew who had it and where they’d gone.  With any luck they can keep him chasing after them like a kid chases the queen around a chess board.”</p><p>She thought about that for a moment, before nodding agreement.  She didn’t know what a queen was in relation to a chess board, but decided not to ask.  “In that case,” she said “all we have to do is find a way to get you onto the ship.  And there just happens to be a tactic The Guardians used once to great effect.”</p><p>Which led him back to the present.  Of course, once the plan had been explained to him, he’d had to make adjustments.  The only reason it had worked at all the last time had been because they’d targeted the hangar deck of Ronan’s ship, and given him enough time to assemble his troops to meet them there.  They’d also been lucky in that Quill had been able to kill them with gunfire during the crash.</p><p>But The Sanctuary was not The Dark Aster.  The Dark Aster was a tactical bombardment vessel.  The Sanctuary was a flying base.  It contained an army of augmented soldiers Clint could never hope to fight his way through, even with his shiny new, custom made, Tony Stark original, powered armor suit.  They wouldn’t even all fit into one of the hangar decks for him to conveniently mow down with sliding ships fire.</p><p>And worst of all, the Guardians were pressed for time.  They’d been forced to move as fast as possible to save Xandar.  He, on the other hand, had time to kill.  Time it would be much easier to kill if he wasn’t also fighting through the apparently endless waves of Thanos’s extended family.</p><p>On top of all that, it was possible that Thanos wouldn’t depart until a detected threat had been neutralized.  No, simply jamming a ship aboard would not work.  He had to make everyone on the ship think he’d never made it on board.</p><p>A light blinked on his console, indicating that he was being targeted from the rear.  He couldn’t help but look at the self-destruct button on the ship’s console; it took a supreme act of will to not punch it.  Somehow, he managed, instead assuming the fetal position and ordering his suit to lock.  He closed his eyes almost involuntarily, as if that single act could make everything stop.  A fraction of a second later a bolt of energy fired from one of Xandar Prime’s battleships knifed through a fuel line in one of the ship’s wings.  The vessel he just happened to be riding in was destroyed in a series of secondary explosions.</p><p>Setting up the ‘accidental’ friendly fire incident with the Xandarians had been the trickiest part of his altered plan.  Or the most insane, depending upon your philosophical perspective.  There were simply too many variables to consider.  He wasn’t just banking on Stark’s armor being able to handle a little explosion.  He was banking on the idea that it would never even occur to anyone aboard The Sanctuary 2 that what they’d witnessed had been anything more than simple friendly fire.  He was banking on the idea that, since nearly the entirety of the exploding ship was behind him, he would be thrown forward into the opening that had already been created.  And he was banking on the suit’s inertial dampers being able to handle the sudden stop at the other end of that flight path.  Which, of course, counted on them not being damaged by the very explosion that had set the suit in motion in the first place.  So many things that could go wrong so spectacularly.</p><p>He’d toyed with the idea of trying to eject at the last moment.  That would nearly have eliminated the risk of damage to the suit, while giving him more control over his entry.  As appealing as that idea was, he’d been forced to shelve it.  The idea that such advanced civilizations wouldn’t have the ability to stick high resolution cameras everywhere for cheap was ludicrous.  And anyone analyzing that feed would quickly note that one particular piece of “debris” just happened to be ejected before the explosion, which would create all kinds of dangerous questions to be asked.   He <em>had</em> to look like a piece of debris from the vessel’s explosion.</p><p>It almost worked flawlessly.  The Xandaran admiral made sure to pick a ship to make the obfuscatory attack that could fire a shot in line with their intended target.  In fact, the shot passed through the wing, hitting the edge of the hole.  The captain of that ship added his own spin to the operation by creating the appearance of an equipment malfunction in the upper laser that should have taken the shot.  The explosion of the weapon, whose shot would have just barely cleared his hull, gave a plausible explanation for a shift to a weapon that would not.</p><p>But that was as far as ‘flawlessly’ got him.  The wing hit threw the ship into a flat spin before it could be destroyed.  The time between the start of the spin and the destruction of the ship was minute, but the cockpit was set as far forward as possible, meaning angular momentum was working against him.  Clint shot out of the destroying ship at an angle.</p><p>If the Xandarians hadn’t been trying to convince all aboard that they were trying to make a hole big enough for a space ship he’d have been thrown well clear of his entry point, ricocheting off of the surface of the ship.  As it was, he impacted the left edge of the hole.</p><p>Even for the dampers in the suit that was a tremendous inertial change.  Clint had expected to bleed speed in several small impacts as he smashed through the far less reinforced interior walls of the ship.  Instead he’d bled half of it on the edge of the hole they’d managed to cut in the very reinforced outer hull.</p><p>Worse, the lowered velocity, plus the angle of his ricochet, kept him from smashing through any interior walls he encountered.  Instead he careened around the interior of the ship like a pinball on a sugar rush.  Not that he was awake for most of it; that first hit had been rough enough to daze him even after the inertial dampers did their thing.  The second finished his consciousness off with all the effect of a sledgehammer to the occipital region.</p><p>He awoke, still in the fetal position, propped face down in the wreckage of his passage; which was fortunate, as his first conscious act was to vomit.  The suit’s faceplate automatically raised the face shield, allowing the contents of his breakfast to hit the deck instead.  Apparently even non-sentient constructs object to being puked on.  That worked for Clint; he had no interest in having that smell inches from his face.</p><p>When he finished the faceplate snapped back into place.  He tried to rise, but the armor held him locked in place.  He started to panic before remembering that he was the reason it was locked like that.  He quickly accessed the appropriate commands and released the posture lock he’d used.</p><p>Before he could react the suit uncurled into a slumped position against the bulkhead he’d landed next to.  He rolled over slowly before shakily getting to his feet. </p><p>“Well, any landing you can walk away from,” he murmured to himself as he looked around.  He couldn’t hope to identify the machinery in the area, but it looked like some form of advanced machine shop.  No doubt Stark would be like a kid in a candy store.</p><p>A glance back the way he’d come showed some form of energy field covering the hole the Xandaran ships had made.  Clint couldn’t believe Thanos would emplace that particular safety measure for the crew’s benefit.  He found it more plausible that air was quite expensive in the universe.</p><p>He popped a compartment on the suit’s right arm and gingerly removed a small recorder he’d placed there.  It had been The Prime’s idea; a way of letting them know whether he’d survived his gambit without actually sending a signal that could be tracked.</p><p>“I’m inside.  Proceeding with mission,” he said in hushed tones before making to toss it through the atmospheric shield.  But something stopped him.  Something he had to say.  He brought the recorder back to his lips.  There was a slight hesitation before he spoke, as if he was having trouble getting the words out. “Tell Wanda I’m sorry I dragged her into all of this,” he said finally.  Then his mouth quirked in wry amusement.  “Oh, and tell Nebula I’m sorry I borrowed her ship without permission,” he added. </p><p>Then he hurled the small device through the gap with a velocity only artificial muscles could confer.  It would give off a small transponder signal the Xandarians could use to track it.  If all went well, anyone on the Sanctuary would think it was the remains of the borrowed vessel’s data recorder and ignore it.  Either way, it was the last signal he’d be sending out.</p><p>  Beyond the barrier he could see the last of the Xandaran ships departing.  Hopefully those in charge had come to the correct conclusion, that now that their attempt to board Clint onto the Sanctuary had failed, they were retreating.  Hopefully one of them would be able to access his final message before they left.</p><p>The sound of heavy footfalls drew his attention from the hole to one of the corridors connecting to the bay he’d ping-ponged through.  They didn’t sound hurried, those footfalls, but they didn’t exactly sound like they were punching a clock either.</p><p>He backed into another corridor, while keeping his attention on the source of the approaching sounds.  “Okay, where do I go from here?” he asked himself.  The Prime had suggested that most ships keep the hyperspace generator near the rear of the vessel, centered on the long axis.  He wasn’t sure how that related to a ship that traveled along the short axis, but he’d been guessing that it was housed in the main body when he chose his entry point.</p><p>A holographic image superimposed itself, unbidden, over the external view his hud was relaying to him.  It flashed a position he figured was probably his location before rotating and zooming out.  It stopped to show a large highlighted room three decks above him, running right through the core of the main fuselage of the ship.  A line drew itself from his position around several bends and stairwells until it ended in the highlighted area.  As if sensing his approval, the map disappeared, replaced with a line leading down the corridor he was currently in.</p><p> “Nice,” he said before starting off.  He had trouble making progress initially.  For one thing, he was having trouble following the pathing line on his HUD.  Sometimes it seemed to lead him directly into walls, bypassing a nearby corridor.  In the end he was forced to figure out how to add the map back to his UI; there was no shortage of grumbling about Stark’s pathing program as he did so.  Fortunately, whatever was wrong with the pathing system wasn’t in effect on the map itself.  It worked perfectly, increasing in size only when he focused on it and shrinking to take a small space on the periphery of the HUD when he wasn’t.  He couldn’t help but think Stark must have outsourced that particular code to someone competent.</p><p>More importantly, every step he made clunked like two cars running into each other.  After a hundred meters or so he gave up the not-so-stealthy approach and strode down the hall like he belonged.  Considering the number of different races (not to mention any personalized addons or upgrades they might have been sporting) Thanos seemed to employ, it seemed like bluff might just beat stealth in this situation.</p><p>That assumption was only challenged once, after turning onto a new corridor.  He was so focused on the map that he’d made it three steps down the passage before noting its other occupants.  The two Chitahuri working on something embedded within the wall were more observant; both were staring curiously at him, their task forgotten.</p><p>His first thought was to turn around before they could ascertain his citizenship, but they hadn’t sounded the alert or attacked him yet.  Doing so would no doubt be just a little conspicuous.  Standing there, staring at them as they were him would likely have the same effect, which left bluff as his only option.  He continued his march towards them, trying his damndest to purport an air of belonging to his actions. </p><p>He had no idea how Natasha pulled such things off so effortlessly.  His heart was racing like it was performing a drum solo.  He was sweating in his suit despite its climate control capabilities.  His breath was coming in shallow, quick pants.   Even his feet were getting into the act, as they constantly voted to replace his casual stroll with a full charge.  Somehow, he forced them to maintain their pace, but every step forward only increased their demands.</p><p>He found himself repeating ‘Act natural’ to himself over and over as he closed the distance.  He made it within ten meters before one of them reacted.  He never knew what had alarmed it.  Perhaps the dim light had hidden the suit’s features better than he’d thought.  Perhaps he’d had to come that close for them to recognize that the armor didn’t resemble any of the technology they were used to.  Perhaps it had eaten Mexican food for lunch, and suddenly needed to take a shit.</p><p>He never knew because the instant it stepped from the wall his right arm snapped out, sweeping in an arc that included both of them.  As he did so, he fired two crossbow bolts from the launcher Stark had set in each forearm of the suit.  Each bolt impacted its target in the head before they could register the attack.  The bolt targeting the one that had stepped away over penetrated, clattering to the deck another twenty meters down the corridor.  The other bolt pinned its target to the edge of the wall it had been crouching next to.</p><p>Clint’s sudden love for his new toy was cut short as a light began to blink on his HUD.  At a glance it expanded, revealing the words ‘Retrieve? Yes, No’.  Curious, he selected ‘Yes’.  That graphic was replaced with an image of the armor from the waist up.  The right arm kept crossing to his chest with the back of the hand facing outward.</p><p>Clint copied the motion.  As his arm came to rest, two slots in the forearm opened up.  Both bolts flitted into the open spots as if reeled in by an invisible line.  The two slots closed up automatically.</p><p>“Oh, I <em>have</em> to get one of these,” Clint said excitedly, before remembering the goal of this expedition.  The odds were very poor that he’d ever have the opportunity to acquire another suit, even if Stark would let him have one.  “Okay. . .” he added in a more subdued tone as he consulted the map again.  “Looks like I go this way,” he said, turning ninety degrees on his heel before continuing.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Nova Prime Vaults</p><p>Entrance Cavern</p><p> </p><p>The remaining Avengers and Guardians of the Galaxy spilled into the first cavern they’d entered in a disheveled mass.  Every one of them except Tony and Rhodes had reached the point where they didn’t think they’d ever catch their breath.  Even those so injured they’d had to be carried were drained; it’s amazing how much work being carried can be when you’re trying to avoid exacerbating a serious injury, or when the carrier is in such a hurry that they forget about the fragile sticker on the packaging.</p><p>Scott and T’Challa immediately exited the elevator they’d been waiting in.  They made straight for those laden with injured, to relieve them of their charges.  Then they started moving them the rest of the way.</p><p>“How much time do we have?” Tony asked.  None of them responded, but then, he hadn’t been asking any of them.  Somewhere just past the point that Parker had bailed on his two charges they’d reestablished contact with the powers above.</p><p>“About three minutes,” the Prime replied.  Their initial elation at restoring contact had dimmed immediately as she explained why she was the one talking to them.  It had dimmed even further when she’d outlined Clint’s insane plan.</p><p>“It took us that long to fall down here,” Quill complained as Parker and Thor joined the main group, still gasping hard.  Regardless of whatever pick-me-ups they’d made use of, they were both exhausted.  It wasn’t that they were at the end of their rope; they could probably have continued caving in tunnels for some time.  But they were far too tired to be effective combatants.  Their reflexes were off.  Their limbs moved sluggishly and felt like they’d suddenly become three or four times as heavy.</p><p>“Yes, thank you for that information,” Tony replied sarcastically.</p><p>“We’ll never make it to the top of the shaft before he gets here,” Widow gasped unhelpfully.  Tony fought off the urge to promote her to Captain Obvious. </p><p>Instead he focused his energies on trying to figure out how they were going to stall the (no doubt, quite angry) madman that was already nipping at their heels.  He could only come up with one option, and it was far from ideal.  But it was all he could think of, and a quick survey of those assembled’s facial expressions made it clear that they didn’t even have a bad plan.</p><p>His expression shifted to one of finality.  “Get everyone in the elevator,” he said.  “Peter, Thor, and Rhodes help push.”  They nodded somberly.  Everyone looked as if they had something to say, but knew they didn’t have the time.  They didn’t know what Tony had planned, but they could tell he wasn’t planning on making it out alive.  None of them liked the idea of leaving someone behind, but they could see no alternative.</p><p>Instead of arguing, each made some small gesture of respect as they passed.  Bucky nodded in his direction.  Cap saluted.  Thor clapped him on the shoulder.   Everyone who could did something before turning to the elevator.</p><p>Everyone except Rhodes.  “No, Tony,” the black man said from behind him before half of the group had finished.</p><p>Tony turned around, eyes moist.  He’d known this would be the hardest goodbye.  He also knew they didn’t have time.  “It’s the only way,” he said, eyes pleading with his friend to just get on the elevator and go.</p><p>“If you detonate here the blast wave will travel up the shaft, and there’s a fifty three percent chance it will collapse.”  Tony gave him a querying look, as if to ask where Rhodes had gotten so precise a calculation.  He’d done the math of course.  He didn’t like it either.  No one likes choosing from the best of terrible options.  “Charlotte did the math,” Rhodes explained.</p><p>“Ah,” Tony said.  He’d have regretted outfitting the suit with an AI except they’d never have gotten this far without it.  “Another way of saying it is there’s a forty seven percent everyone else will escape,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Those are shitty odds and you know it,” Rhodes replied.</p><p>“You have a better option?” Tony asked.  If it had been anyone else the question would have been far more sarcastic.</p><p>Rhodes looked his friend in the eye before stating “I’ll buy the time you need.”  There was no waffling, no uncertainty in that declaration.  There was only the steel of a warrior who knew what he had to do, and knew that those that survived would make his sacrifice count.  It could not be questioned.</p><p>Tony questioned it anyways.  “That’s insane,” he said.  “You can’t possibly take them all yourself.”</p><p>“I’ll buy the time you need,” Rhodes said again, adding even more steel to his voice.  Then he shrugged, giving an almost carefree grin.  “I’m the only one that can, Tony.  No one else is even close to combat capable.”</p><p>Deep down Tony knew Rhodes was right.  He knew that.  It didn’t matter.  Rhodes was more than a friend; he was a brother.  He couldn’t just let him go, no matter the stakes.</p><p>“He’s right, Tony,” Natasha said softly, from behind the red suit.  Annoyance flashed across Tony’s face at her intrusion, but he couldn’t escape the fact that she was right, or that his delay was putting them all at risk.</p><p>“They need you,” Rhodes added, nodding past him.  Tony hesitated before nodding ascent.  Still he didn’t move.  He searched his mind for something he could say, something he could do that might convey just how much the pilot had meant to him over the years.  But there was nothing.  No ritual.  No phrase.  In the end he did the only thing he could think of.  He held his hand out for a last handshake.  It was lame and he knew it.  But that didn’t change the fact that he had to do something, even the wrong thing.</p><p>Rhodes took a step closer and grasped Tony’s forearm in a Viking’s handshake.  They held each other’s arms for a half second, staring into each other’s eyes.  Somehow that seemed to convey everything they needed to say to each other.  Then Tony broke the embrace and turned towards the elevator, face set in stone.  Natasha touched the forearm of his suit in sympathy before jogging ahead.</p><p>The scene touched everyone in the elevator, but none stronger than Nebula.  It caused a stirring somewhere deep down inside of her, in that place in which she’d shoved her compassion so long ago, that she could not put down.  It was almost as if it were her and Gamora out there, instead of these two men she barely knew.</p><p>“What are you guys waiting for?” Tony asked, perhaps slightly gruffer than necessary.  Everyone else was squeezed into the elevator, watching him approach.  Everyone except Peter and Thor, who were on the roof, preparing to help pull the elevator along.  “Get moving.  I’m pushing,” he said.</p><p>Steve nodded and hit the button with the ‘up’ arrow.  “Hey Airman!” he called out as the metal gates closed.  Rhodes turned around, a questioning look on his face.  Steve saluted him, just as he had Tony a moment before.  The other occupants, those from Earth, followed suit.  Then the elevator began to rise.</p><p>“I guess we’re going,” Parker said from his perch at the top of the cab before starting to pull on the counterweight.</p><p>“It would seem so,” Thor agreed as he gripped the handle the kid had made for him out of webbing and began to spin his hammer over his head.</p><p>Down below Tony gave Rhodes one last glance before stepping into the shaft.  He grabbed the base of elevator as it passed and activated his boots.  It was fortunate that he was pushing as opposed to crammed into the overlarge elevator; his people skills were sub-par at the best of times, and this moment was far from that ideal.</p><p>“First thing’s first,” Rhodes said to himself aiming one of his precious missiles at the second elevator and firing.  The snapping sound of cabling suddenly relieved of its tension made it clear that that particular mode of conveyance was no longer operational.</p><p>“Alright, Charlotte,” he said as he scanned the room slowly “we’ve got about a minute before our guests arrive.  I’d like to be able to prepare some kind of welcome for them.”</p><p>“Then, might I suggest the power cells from the nonfunctioning defensive structures?” the AI’s rich, melodic voice asked.  Small spots of highlighter yellow began to dot his HUD, indicating the locations of usable cells.  He focused on one.  The HUD automatically zoomed in on the target of his interest.  Each cell was a rough cylinder with tapered ends about half a meter long.  Some of them were leaking some sort of purplish gas.  The gas was heavier than air.</p><p>“You sure about this?” Rhodes asked, already blasting towards the nearest of them.</p><p>“Chemical fuels are generally temperamental,” she replied.  “I would recommend against contact between the suit’s thrusters and the gas,” she added laconically.</p><p>“Thanks for the heads up,” Rhodes replied dryly, as he started collecting them.</p><p>The cracked cells were dropped rather unceremoniously onto the bridge at staggered intervals.  Several more were clustered around the entrance Peter and Thor had collapsed.  One of those found a nice little niche in the rock just over that entrance.  Then he started working on the structure of the bridge.</p><p>He was still mining the underside when Thanos cleared the last of the debris out of his way.</p><p>Rhodes flew back to the top of the bridge to stare at the small horde.  Instead of the Titan Rhodes saw a file of his minions working their way through the debris.  Apparently Thanos was feeling a bit cautious at this point.</p><p>There were sixteen of them in total, none looking to be in good shape. They didn’t attack the figure hovering a safe distance over the bridge’s half way point.  Nor did they try to step foot, pincer, prosthesis, etc. onto the purple gas coated bridge itself.  Instead they silently fanned out, creating a defensive perimeter around the entrance.</p><p>That worked for Rhodes.  No doubt, they thought the delay would work itself upon his nerves, and if truth be told, that’s exactly the effect he’d have expected.  Instead, he felt this centering calm, as if everything was right in the world.  As if, deep down, he knew he was in the right place, doing the right thing in his life.</p><p>Acceptance that he wasn’t going to make it out of this probably played a part in that.  It wasn’t that he wanted to die.  It was just that he didn’t expect to live through this encounter, which neatly sidestepped the suspense of worrying about one’s mortality.  As powerful a motivator as self-survival could be, that wasn’t his purpose this day.</p><p>His goal was to delay Thanos long enough for the others to escape.  If they wanted to waste their time with formations, he wouldn’t interfere.  Besides, he had more pressing concerns; it had suddenly occurred to him that he should say something at this auspicious juncture.  No, more like he was required to say something.</p><p>His mind flitted through all the war dramas he’d seen, all the histories of ancient battles he’d read.  But nothing seemed . . . right.  Well, that wasn’t true.  There was one thing his mind kept fastening on.  But it was bit silly, a touch childish, and far too optimistic.</p><p>But apparently that was the mood he was in, because no matter how many queries he started his mind kept stubbornly returning the same option.  Over, and over, and over, until Thanos finally appeared.</p><p>He stepped out of the hole his minions had made in the wall, taking in Rhodes’s presence as well as his purpose in stride.  He stopped in the center of his minions and looked upon the floating black suit for a minute moment before speaking.</p><p>“I applaud your courage, but not your intellect,” the Titan called out in a serious voice.  “You alone are not sufficient to delay me.”</p><p>Rhodes searched his mind again, this time for an appropriately snappy response.  Tony would have had one on the tip of his tongue, just waiting for the monster to finish his remarks.  But Tony wasn’t here.  He was.  And all that was on the tip of his tongue was that one stupid line.</p><p>“Fuck it,” Rhodes muttered to himself before activating the suit’s loudspeaker system.  Charlotte anticipated his needs by cranking the external volume to maximum.  He took a deep breath, hoping for one last inspiration.  Something like that which Horatius or John Paul Jones had uttered would have been perfect.  But Horatius was just a bit long winded for the occasion, and Jones just didn’t quite fit.  In the absence of anything else, Tolkien would just have to do.</p><p>“YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” he intoned, voice booming about the cavern.  Thanos cocked his head curiously, before reaching out and grabbing the suit telekinetically.  Then he began to pull the black suit towards him.</p><p>It was about the response Rhodes had expected after presenting himself as the immoveable object in The Alpha Male’s path.  He had to prove he could move it, and he had to prove that in as menacing a way as possible.  Which was exactly what Rhodes was counting on for a couple of reasons.  First it was a slow process, eating still more time.  Second, the early arrival (or delayed mining operation) of Space Hitler and Co. had forced some improvisation on him.</p><p>  His original plan had been to hurl a couple of cells at Thanos as he emerged from the tunnel.  The timing would have had to be perfect to keep them from being caught and hurled back, but he’d been confident he could pull it off.  He expected the blast would have been sufficient to launch even Thanos back into the tunnel he’d just emerged from.</p><p>But he’d underestimated the industriousness of those under the motivation of the whip.  He hadn’t even had enough time to be sure he’d placed a sufficient amount of IED’s under the bridge, let alone scare up a few surplus cells for use as thrown weapons.  The bridge should go up as he’d planned, but it might not.  Charlotte was refusing to give hard odds, citing a lack of information on the materials used in its construction as an excuse.  One thing was certain though: it wouldn’t have been destroyed if he removed a couple of the charges for his personal use.</p><p>But he needed to get Thanos back in the tunnel he was standing in front of.  His missiles had proven effective enough to affect that altered vector, but again, that telekinetic ability got in the way.  It had worked once because he’d timed it perfectly, and because Thanos hadn’t seen it coming.  He had no delusions of making it work a second time.</p><p>He thrusted against the invisible hand that was slowly pulling him exactly where he wanted to be, more for show than anything else.  After all, it wouldn’t do to have the bastard wondering exactly why his victim went so willingly.</p><p>It also helped to slow his progress even more, though his braking efforts were far less effective than he’d hoped they’d be.  But eventually, far sooner than he’d have liked, he found himself floating in front of Thanos.  He’d been forced to quit thrusting as he closed on the purple haze his less than inconspicuous land mines were releasing.  Instead, Thanos held him just below eye level, a meter and a half away.</p><p>“Now,” the purple version of Leatherface said condescendingly “what was it you were saying?”</p><p>That’s when Rhodes’s chest arc fired the biggest repulsor blast it could manage.  Repulsor blasts moved at nearly the speed of light.  Even Thanos couldn’t react that quickly.  His face barely had time to display his surprise before the blast knocked him back into the hole.</p><p>He reacted far faster than Rhodes had expected by spreading his arms out to grasp the walls of the tunnel, stopping himself barely three meters inside.  This had the side effect of sending loose bits of dirt drifting down the length of the hastily erected tunnel.  A good amount fell, but not enough for the cave in he’d been hoping for.  Clearly it needed help.</p><p>Rhodes had dropped to his feet as the repulsor blast broke Thanos’s concentration on him.  Now he snatched one of the cells he’d left lying around the entrance off of the ground and hurled it into the mouth of the tunnel.  Thanos caught the demolition charge telekinetically before it could go more than a couple of meters.</p><p>It only floated there for a moment before Thanos hurled it back, but that was enough time for the obstruction to hide Rhodes’s last missile as it blasted down the tunnel.  The two objects met quite violently a meter and a half inside the hole.  A gout of flame erupted from the entrance as both objects exploded.  It traveled upwards, barely missing the power cell Rhodes had left there.</p><p>The flame cut off quickly, followed by a puff of dirt as the entire tunnel collapsed right on top of Thanos.  With luck he’d find it quite difficult to dig himself out of his improvised tomb.</p><p>His ‘children’ apparently reached a similar conclusion; half of them launched themselves at the now filled mouth of their tunnel to frantically dig him out.  The other half converged on Rhodes.</p><p>Before they could reach him, Rhodes activated his repulsors, launching himself into the air.  The gasses he’d been standing boot deep in ignited as he did so, flashing back to their parent cells.</p><p>The ensuing explosion did not kill any of Thanos’s minions, but it certainly damaged them.  Rhodes flew back to the midway point of the bridge and glanced at the elevator shaft his comrades had used those few minutes before.  There was a chance he didn’t have to die here.  He might just have bought the group enough time already.  He could leave now.  It wasn’t like any of those misbegotten creatures could have stopped him.  Nor did he relish killing them.  After all, they’d had no choice in becoming what they were.</p><p>Almost against his will, he turned back to the other end of the massive sphere-shaped room.  What he saw squashed that one hope.  Thanos’s minions were there, already back to digging their master out.  Without Rhodes’s presence they were all digging, and the time they were making was staggering.  If he didn’t intervene, they’d have Thanos free in less than a minute.</p><p>Rhodes glanced back at the shaft once more, but he knew he would never use it.  Instead, he blasted back to the frantic relief effort.  He fired a wrist laser at the cell he’d placed over the door, undoing all their hard work.  Then he strafed the lot of them before heading back to the center.</p><p>The battle devolved into a series of hit and run raids.  With a fresh suit, with full armaments, he could probably have landed in the middle of them and wreaked havoc.  But he didn’t have a fresh suit, and his armaments save bullets were completely depleted; he had to settle for keeping them from focusing on their task, and reversing their efforts with the occasional lobbed fuel cell.</p><p>On his second run he realized that somewhere along the way he’d started singing the US Airforce Anthem.  It started as a mumbled afterthought, but once he realized he was doing it the recital became louder and more pronounced.  He hadn’t sung that song since his days at the Academy, yet it was fresh in his mind.</p><p>
  <em>Off we go into the wild blue yonder,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Climbing high into the sun</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He strafed the landing Thanos’s minions were on again, this time armed with two cells he’d taken from those he’d placed at the top of the bridge.  The first was dropped on the ranks that had gathered at the edge of the landing to try and knock him out of the sky.  As he passed the halfway point of the landing, he rolled in order to hurl the second at the excavation in progress.  Unfortunately, this one did not explode.  Unable to rectify that failure, he continued his roll.  He adjusted his course slightly in order to shoulder check one of the minions into the pit below as the finale to the run.  Whether it was dead or wounded by the fall wasn’t important; he was confident that it would have no further effect on his mission.</p><p>
  <em>Here they come zooming </em>
  <em>to</em>
  <em> meet our thunder</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He landed back on the bridge.  Placing the cannisters on top had turned out to be a mistake.  He supposed he’d been hoping Thanos would casually order his men to cross despite the obvious danger his mine field possessed.  Instead it had turned out to be a deterrent to luring his opponents from their labors. </p><p>
  <em>At 'em boys, Give 'er the gun!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He solved that problem by snatching up the cells and tossing them in long arcs that ended with the too damned industrious diggers.  He didn’t much care if they detonated or not, he just needed them clear of the bridge.  That didn’t stop him from interrupting his serenade with a quick ‘dammit’ as none of them detonated.  He figured they must have leaked too much of their gasses to be that easily ignited.</p><p>
  <em>Down we dive, spouting our flame from under</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>His opponents threw the cannisters off the landing as quickly as they could.  They managed to remove all but three before he’d finished his barrage.  He sighted his wrist laser on the most exposed of the remaining cells and fired.  The explosion was the biggest yet, yet it seemed to yield the most limited returns in terms of creating rockslides.  He was running out of wall to collapse.</p><p>
  <em>Off with one helluva roar!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>That said, the explosion did damage most of them further, kill two diggers, and launch one of the forlorn defenders to the deeps.  It was also further evidence that he would have to be dealt with before they could dig The Boss out.  Nine of the remaining eleven charged three abreast down the now ‘safe’ bridge at full speed.</p><p>
  <em>We live in fame or go down in flame. Hey!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nothing can stop the U.S. Air Force!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He greeted the two flankers of the first line with repulsor blasts that sent them reeling into their compatriots behind them.  Then he sidestepped to the right of the point minion’s wild lunge, grasping its throat with his left hand as he did so.</p><p>
  <em>Minds of men fashioned a crate of thunder</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sent it high into the blue</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He launched himself and his unwilling charge off to the right of the bridge.  He killed his forward momentum at the ten-meter mark from the bridge.  Then he grasped his cargo by the ankle (or whatever it was using in place of same) and elbow and spun two hundred and seventy degrees before releasing it again.  The minion flew like a thrown discus directly into the center of his fellows, creating quite the tangled mass.</p><p>
  <em>Hands of men blasted the world a-sunder</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>While they were busy untangling themselves from one another he dove below the bridge and fired on the fuel cells he’d placed there.  The group exploded in an even larger explosion than his last.</p><p>
  <em>How they lived God only knew!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The bridge buckled in the center, but otherwise remained intact.  He flew closer to inspect the damage.  The explosions had definitely taken a large chunk out of the bottom of the bridge, but it still seemed structurally sound.  He tried his laser, but whatever material the bridge was made out of was quite resistant.  He even tried ramming the weak spot he’d created from below.  Nothing worked.</p><p>
  <em>Souls of men dreaming of skies to conquer</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Cursing the over competence of Xandaran engineers mentally, he scanned the dome’s walls for any more power cells he could use to finish off his little demolition project.  He’d just spied a couple flanking the elevator side of the bridge when something took a swipe at him from the side of the bride.</p><p>
  <em>Gave us wings, ever to soar!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>His Hud flashed a warning light indicating the direction of the attack.  He dodged away instinctively, and rotated to see one of Thanos’s children hanging over the side of the bridge.  It appeared that it was being held up by another of its brethren.</p><p>
  <em>With scouts before And bombers galore.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Before he could respond another light flashed, indicating the opposite side of the bridge.  This time he was hit before he could respond, but it was a glancing blow without any real power.  Their precarious nature, dangling over the abyss, made it difficult to land a firm blow.</p><p>
  <em>Nothing can stop the U.S. Air Force!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Before they could try again Rhodes aligned himself to face the collapsed tunnel still more of them were busily recreating.   He crossed his arms over his chest, keeping the palms of his hands pointed out at his sides.  Both repulsors flashed at the same time, pushing his hanging assailants swinging away from him.  The torque was enough to make one of the holders drop its charge; it bellowed as it fell out of reach.</p><p>
  <em>Here's a toast to the host</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of those who love the vastness of the sky,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Rhodes didn’t care if the other one fell or not, their involuntary swing left him an opening.  He flew around and above the bridge.  Two more duos had been setting up to swing a man down to bother him.  They looked up as he rocketed over their heads.  He cut his boot thrusters, pitched over to face the ground, and cut his thrusters back in at max.  He kept his arms stretched out in front of him, forearms up at ninety degrees, protecting his head from the oncoming collision. </p><p>
  <em>To a friend we send a message of his brother men who fly.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>By good fortune, one of Thanos’s minions just happened to be standing directly above the weakest part of the bridge.  The black suit slammed through its body, barely even slowing before impacting the bridge.  The weak point shattered under the hit.  Amazingly, only the middle half of the bridge fell into the abyss, but that was enough to catch the eight still on it.</p><p>
  <em>We drink to those who gave their all of old</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Rhodes blasted back into the air and aimed himself at the last two diggers.  They saw him coming and turned back to their task with renewed vigor.  He braked to a halt next to the digger on his right, grabbed it at its collar area and one of its legs, and lifted it away from the face it was working on.  It ignored him in favor of continuing its task, even going so far as to stretch its limbs out in order to move that last bit of gravel out of the way.</p><p>
  <em>Then down we roar to score the rainbow's pot of gold.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The moment it was too far from the cave in to do anything it turned on him with a fanatical vengeance.  It wiggled and kicked and tried to snake its head around to bite him.  It thrashed inside his grasp, desperately trying to free itself.  And it almost worked.  He hadn’t realized just how massy the thing was, nor how strong.  One hand slipped from its collar.  It redoubled its efforts to bite him with a maw he had no doubt could crush the suit’s helmet.  Before it could he pivoted on his heel, spinning in a circle.  Centrifugal force yanked it away from his face. Once its flailing arms were at full extension, he released it to fly into the wall of the dome before bouncing into the depths of the cavern.</p><p>
  <em>A toast to the host of men we boast, the U.S. Air Force!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He turned to the other, this time grabbing it by both shoulders and hauling it away from its work.  As he did so he caught sight of Thanos’s now unearthed head, as well as a good portion of his right shoulder.  They looked at each other momentarily before Thanos launched the black suit off of the landing they were standing on. </p><p>
  <em>Off we go into the wild sky yonder,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Rhodes, completely having forgotten he was holding Thanos’s last minion, drug same off with him.  There was a brief scuffle in the air as it tried to grab onto him, but he was able to kick it away.  His last sight of Thanos before he fell below the floor was of the Titan’s right arm emerging from the dirt straight jacket that had held it.</p><p>
  <em>Keep the wings level and true</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He glanced at the time, and was stunned to realize that the entire fight had only lasted about four minutes.  He had to buy more time.  He began looking around for anything that would help him do just that.</p><p>
  <em>If you'd live to be a grey-haired wonder</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Keep the nose out of the blue!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Meanwhile, Thanos drug himself slowly out of the attempted tomb.  If he felt any concern for the sixteen ‘children’ he’d brought with him he didn’t show it.  He simply strode to the edge of the landing, taking in the state of the cavern.  He knew better than to trust the bridge, so he got down into a three point stance.  Then his thigh muscles bunched, and he launched himself into the air on a trajectory that would end at the other landing.</p><p>
  <em>Flying men, guarding the nation's border,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>But that black suit arced out from under the bridge, carrying another two cells.  Rhodes threw the payload, one after another, at the airborne Titan.  Thanos caught them telekinetically, preparing to return the gesture.  Before he could, Rhodes’s minigun spun up, targeting the floating cells.  They exploded, creating a fireball that shrouded each from the other’s view.</p><p>
  <em>we'll be there followed by more!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Rhodes used that occlusion to add a slight bend in his course, just in case Thanos tried to grab him blindly.  He then accelerated in order to pass through the cloud of flame before Thanos.  Charlotte put a ghostly outline of Thanos on his screen, indicating where he should be heading based on last known data.  Rhodes veered for an intercept, firing his concussion pulse at the target. </p><p>As he cleared the cloud, he confirmed Thanos right where he was supposed to be.  He accelerated harder.  At the last moment before impact he traded his concussion pulse for a left hook right to Thanos’s temple.</p><p>
  <em>In echelon we carry on</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, nothing'll stop the Air Force!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The collision arrested both of their flights.  They fell in a tangled mass.  Despite the concussion pulse, despite what was probably the single most powerful hook ever delivered, Thanos retained enough presence of mind to grab Rhodes before he could blast away again.  Rhodes targeted everything he could on Thanos’s face, in the hopes of making him flinch; everything he did just made the monster increase his hold. </p><p>
  <em>Nothing'll stop the U.S. Air Force!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He tried to bring his concussion pulse to bear, but Thanos caught his right forearm in his free hand.  His grip tightened like a pneumatic press, crushing the weapon, the gauntlet, and the forearm underneath.  Rhodes growled in pain and headbutted the monster.  He fired his chest arc again, but couldn’t loosen Thanos’s hold</p><p>They were staring each other in the face when they hit the ground.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Tony’s eyes were sealed like storm shutters.  They had been since some time shortly after he’d become an ancillary booster for the elevator.  If you ignored the tightness around his eyes and mouth you might think he was asleep.</p><p>By that point they were too far away for Tony to have been able to make the sounds traveling up the shaft.  But Friday could.  She’d been enhancing every sound she detected.</p><p>Most of those sounds had originated as explosions, but a few were simply the clash of high inertia impacts.  Tony flinched at each sound as hope and despair warred within him.  Hope, because each sound was proof that his closest friend was not yet dead.  Despair, because each sound could also indicate the completion of that foregone conclusion.</p><p>As they went the sounds of combat became greater and greater.  Then, about three quarters of the way to the surface, all went silent.  Tony held his breath, praying to any deity that might listen for just one more sound.</p><p>None came.</p><p>He gasped a ragged breath as a tear streaked down his cheek.  He started to take another when a new sound reached him.</p><p>His first thought was to hope that his conclusion regarding Rhodes’s demise had been greatly exaggerated, but he realized quickly that that was wishful thinking.  This sound was distinctly different.  For one thing it had a steady repetitive sound to it, a rhythmic clanging.  For another, it seemed both quieter and closer than the previous sounds. </p><p>And they were getting closer.</p><p>They were getting closer very quickly.  He quickly tilted his head down to scan the depths between his boots.  Deep down he knew what he would find, yet he found himself hoping it would be Rhodes coming to join them.  After all, they were almost to the surface as it was.  It could be him.</p><p>But it wasn’t Rhodes.  And even though he’d already known what he’d see he still gasped in fear as Friday zoomed in and enhanced his view. </p><p>The sounds he’d been hearing were that of Thanos rocketing up the shaft.  He was using the framework around the shaft as if it were a giant-sized ladder.  A giant-sized ladder he was currently bounding up, one single arm pull at a time. </p><p>Tony checked the distance to the surface: still another two thousand feet to go.  At the speed they were traveling they might just make it before he could catch them, but probably not.  And it wasn’t enough to beat him to the surface; they had to have time to hide before he made it to the top.</p><p>His mind whirred in search of possibilities, as if each thought were a separate pinball bouncing around the inside of his skull.  But, this time, none of them found anything resembling a home.  For the first time since his capture so long ago he wasn’t sure what to do.  The best idea he had was to use his boot thrusters to blind, and possibly push the approaching Titan away.  But his limited mobility made succeeding at such a tactic highly improbably. </p><p>The best he could truly hope for was that such a move might get Thanos to focus solely on him.  If he could do that, all he’d have to do to save the others was let go of the elevator and fall the nearly four miles they’d come.  If he could keep Thanos busily fighting him for even thirty seconds the others would be able to get clear.  But even that suicidal plan was far from certain.</p><p>“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled continuously as he tried to gauge the timing of his move.  So engrossed was he on the approaching ballistic missile like monster that he didn’t even realize he was doing it.</p><p>Peter hadn’t heard Thanos coming.  He was so tired he was focusing all of his energy on webbing the counterweight’s line and pulling.  Web, pull.  Web, pull.  Web, pull.  He’d never felt so tired in his life, so tired that nearly half of his shots were missing.  But he wasn’t quite so tired as to miss Stark’s rather uninventive string of obscenity. </p><p>“Karen, what’s going on?” he panted between pulls.  While he waited, he wondered idly just how much web fluid was left in his shooters.  He’d already gone through the two spares the suit carried, but he wasn’t certain how long ago he’d inserted the replacements.</p><p>“Thanos is coming up the shaft at high velocity,” the AI reported after touching base with her counterpart in Tony’s suit.  Which meant that Rhodes was almost certainly dead.  Peter closed his eyes and exhaled in grief.  He’d liked the ex-pilot.  He’d looked up to his sure, confident bearing almost as much as he looked up to Mr. Stark.</p><p>Mr. Stark, he thought as the gears in his head came screeching to a halt.  Even in his exhausted state he could draw a line from Thanos’s presence to Mr. Stark’s most likely course of action.  It wasn’t hard, seeing as how they’d already had to stop him from sacrificing himself twice.  There was little doubt what he’d do, being the only person between Thanos and everyone else.  Even less doubt when you factored in the fact that he’d just lost his best friend.</p><p>Peter glanced at Thor.  The Asgardian didn’t look much better than he felt, but he was still twirling his hammer with a determined look on his face.  He thought about explaining where he was going, but he didn’t have time for an argument.  Instead he slipped quietly over the side of the elevator. </p><p>Despite the ordeals of the day, Thor was not so tired as to miss the Peter’s exit.  He’d been keeping a close eye on the kid out of concern that, in his current state, he might fall off of the edge of the lift.  He almost called out after him, but stopped himself.  The kid had definitely earned a little autonomy after recent events.  Realizing what he’d just thought, Thor made a mental note to stop thinking of Peter as a kid.  He was a warrior.  And that warrior had decided his services would be better used elsewhere.  In the end, Thor’s only response was to adjust his position over the elevator to compensate for the lack of pull on Peter’s side.</p><p>Tony needn’t have worried about trying to get Thanos’s attention; the delay Rhodes’s last stand had imposed upon Thanos had sent him into a frenzy the likes of which he’d never felt before.  Not even crushing that black suit’s chest piece flat and watching the organs spill out of Rhodes’s mouth had made a dent in his mood.  In short, he had every intention of venting said frustrations on the first person he came across.</p><p>It was just his good fortune that that target should be the very man who had made those irritatingly reliable suits.  The moment he’d caught sight of that red and gold paint job his vision had narrowed in on it like a target system.  His mind filled with such wonderful thoughts of revenge that all he saw was his target.</p><p>He never saw Spiderman creep down to the bottom edge of the elevator car.  He never saw him tense as he made his final leap at Stark.  He didn’t even see the kid fling himself from the car, or web the bottom to turn that launch into a swing.  His first indication of another presence was verbal.</p><p>“Sorry, this car’s full,” Peter shouted as he used his other web shooter to fling a barrage of stun webs at Thanos’s eyes.  The Titan lurched, instinctively covering his eyes with one massive paw.  Peter’s boot struck him in the jaw, just below his hand.  Thanos spun into the side wall.  Despite the sudden spin, despite the electricity being applied directly to his eyes, despite being blind, he was still able to turn that spin into a reverse bicycle kick that launched Peter into the underside of the car.</p><p>Peter was unconscious before he hit the elevator car, a situation unimproved by that second impact.  Tony managed to grab him by the collar, trusting Karen to tighten the suit so the kid wouldn’t fall out.  He pulled the kid close, awkwardly maneuvering him over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry with one hand.  Then he glanced back down the shaft.</p><p>Friday immediately increased his zoom level.  The sight would have been comical if it hadn’t been for the dire seriousness of the situation.  Thanos seemed to be having a hard time choosing between trying to catch himself on the girders he was careening down and trying to pry the shock webbing facial Peter had applied off of his face.  Every time he put his hands to his face, he careened into something.  In the end he let up a roar of rage as he plummeted back to the bottom of the shaft.</p><p>It would have been comical.  “Friday how’s Peter?” Tony asked quietly.</p><p>“Karen says he’s unconscious and exhausted, but he should be fine,” Friday replied.</p><p>“That’s good,” he replied, sounding so tired it was heartbreaking.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Deliberations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Earth</p><p> Up State New York</p><p>General Ross’s Study</p><p> </p><p>General Thaddeus Ross sat up enough to fill the tumbler on his desk from the bottle of Hennessy Ellipse Cognac sitting next to it.  He stoppered the bottle and set it carefully back in its place before resuming his slouch in the armchair.  It was hardly a military posture, but it fit well the rest of his mien.  The class A uniform he’d worn to the debrief was rumpled with a day’s travel.  Its tie was missing, its jacket opened, and the top few buttons of its dress shirt had been undone.</p><p>Ross reached out to the glass, but didn’t actually pick it up.  Instead he contemplated the swirls of the amber liquid in the dim light of his study.  The expensive brandy had been a gift from the UN when he’d taken responsibility for The Avengers, an irony that was not lost on him now.  Perhaps they’d been more aware than he just what an anthill he’d chosen to sit down on.</p><p>“Divining your future, Thaddeus?” a voice asked from the shadows of the room.</p><p>Ross’s eyes widened momentarily upon recognition that he was not alone.  Then they relaxed as he identified the owner of those words.  It really shouldn’t have surprised him that that man could get into his house.  At this point, nothing that man did qualified as ‘surprising’.</p><p>“Nicholas,” he greeted warmly, not taking his eyes off of the plays of light in the glass. </p><p>Fury stepped casually into the light, examining the pictures displayed on one wall of the office.  “Do you know that you are probably the only person I let call me that?” he asked without turning around.</p><p>Ross hefted the glass and took a sip before responding.  “Do you know you’re probably the only person in the world I let call me Thaddeus?” he countered.</p><p>“You know, I never understood what you had against your name,” Fury replied, moving to a display of medals.  “There are worse things to be called than ‘courageous heart’.”</p><p>“There are worse things to be called than ‘victory of the people’, too,” Ross shot back.</p><p>“Yeah, but it just doesn’t roll off the tongue like fury,” Fury said, stepping up to the other side of the desk.  He scanned its occupants, noting the sheet of printed sentences in the center.  It had a pen sitting on top of it, but was as yet unsigned.  Fury placed an index finger on one edge of the former and drug it across the table, rotating it enough to read. </p><p>“You want a glass?” Ross asked as Fury’s eyes skimmed the letter quickly. </p><p>“I think you’re drinking enough for both of us tonight,” Fury replied as he finished the letter.  He was less than shocked by what it said.  “And there was I thinking Thunderbolt Ross would never yield in anything,” he added, sounding equally wistful, surprised, and disappointed at the same time.  A neat trick, that.</p><p>Ross took another sip before responding.  “I always said if a man can’t do his job then he needs to find a job he can do,” Ross said bitterly.</p><p>“Like sitting in his study getting drunk on expensive cognac?” Fury asked pointedly.  Ross didn’t respond immediately.  Indeed, for a while it didn’t seem as if he would respond.  He just sat there, staring into his glass.</p><p>“You never knew Howard Stark, did you?” he asked eventually.</p><p>“No,” Fury replied softly.</p><p>“Now there was a man,” Ross went on.  “Intelligent, tough, dedicated.  He was a damned fine friend.  And he understood the value of cooperation.  You know I was there when Tony was born?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Fury said.</p><p>“That kid is so much like his father it’s scary,” Ross said.  “But he’s also willful, and arrogant.  And he doesn’t trust the chain of command.  Those are dangerous traits in any soldier.”</p><p>Fury leaned against the desk and turned to Ross, one leg propped on it.  “Not everyone’s cut out to be a soldier,” he offered.</p><p>“If he can’t do the job-,” Ross started.</p><p>“-then he needs to find a job he can do,” Fury finished for him.  He looked over to the dark night sky portrayed in the study’s window, as if searching for what to say.  Ross went back to contemplating his drink.</p><p>Finally, Fury broke the silence.  “You remember after our first tour in Nam?” he asked seemingly off topic.  “We were coming into that Airport just north of L.A.  People were spitting on the soldiers ahead of us, calling them baby killers, throwing empty beer cans.”</p><p>Ross gave a tight grin at the memory.  “I remember you wanted to slip into our civies to avoid an incident,” he said.</p><p>Fury nodded unapologetically.  He supposed that, given a choice, he’d always go for the more finesse option.  “Do you remember what you said?”</p><p>Ross tried to think back, but he was peering through too much time and too much drink.  “Not off hand,” he said.</p><p>“You said ‘I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them act as judge, jury, and jailor when they don’t even know our names’,” Furry said, doing a fare imitation of Ross’s voice.  “Then you marched in there and began snapping orders.  Some of those guys outranked you, but they listened when you hollered.  And a moment later, every one of those jackasses that had been throwing things, and spitting on us found themselves racked against a wall.  I think that’s when I knew you’d make it to general.”</p><p>Ross smiled slightly.  “Came fairly close to making inmate from that, if you’ll recall,” he said sardonically</p><p>“Yep,” Fury said as if he’d enjoyed that particular inquest.  “But we didn’t.  We may have just come back from a war but we weren’t the monsters there.”</p><p>“Those people weren’t monsters,” Ross said with a shake of his head.  “They were just scared.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Fury agreed matter-of-factly.  “But they weren’t scared of who we were, or what we’d done.  They were scared of what we were.  They feared us because they saw us as dangerous.  It didn’t matter whether we were actually going to do anything with that power or not.  We had it.  They didn’t.”</p><p>“Subtlety is not one of your strong suits Nick,” Ross said.  “But this is entirely different.”</p><p>“Is it?”</p><p>“We were soldiers, Nick,” Ross said earnestly.  “We had a chain of command that could hold us accountable for our actions.  If our superiors had decided to send us to Leavenworth for what we’d done then that’s where we’d have gone.  But these Avengers, they answered to no one.  They run rough shod over entire cities with no regard to the people living there.  They needed someone to answer to, someone who could reign them in.”</p><p>Fury eased into an arm chair set beside the desk.  “And so, we blame them for the battles they fought for our protection,” he said wistfully.  Ross didn’t reply.  “We treated them like soldiers, Thad,” Fury said into the silence.  “But they’re not soldiers.  Only three of them had ever even taken the oath, and for one that was seventy years ago.”</p><p>“But they could have been,” Ross said.  “They would have been if Stark had been able to get over his ego.  Instead he stabbed me in the back.”</p><p>“He didn’t stab you in the back,” Fury replied.  “He just made sure he could reign you in if you got out of control.”</p><p>Ross threw a glare in Fury’s direction.  “You agree with him?” he asked, sounding shocked.</p><p>“Don’t get me wrong,” Fury said with a half shrug “Tony Stark has been one unbearable pain in my ass on occasion too.  But yeah, he was right.  You wanted to turn the Avengers into soldiers, but I didn’t create them to be soldiers.  I designed them to be champions.”</p><p>“I fail to see the difference.”</p><p>“Soldiers go where they’re ordered and fight the fights they’re ordered to fight,” Fury explained.  “Champions choose their fights based upon their own moral code.  They don’t fight for a specific country.  They fight to protect those that need it, not because we order them to, but because they believe in the righteousness of that act.  Turning them into soldiers would have been like breaking a stallion.” </p><p>“An unbroken stallion is a danger to its rider, Nick,” Ross responded.</p><p>“Perhaps, but a warrior astride one that chooses to bear him makes a fearsome team,” Fury replied.  “And that’s what it takes to fight the battles I built them for.”</p><p>“Well I’d say your unbroken stallions are too damned wild.  They’ve shown a complete disregard for the damage they’ve caused all over the world.  They’ve destroyed three cities in as many actions.  Countless civilian deaths.  Massive rebuilding projects.  Never in the history of Man has anyone come close to that level of collateral damage.  And you think I’m the one that needs a leash?”</p><p>Fury paused for effect.  “I think you’re starting to sound a bit like Lieutenant Glass,” Fury replied slowly.  Then he affected the southern accent of what was probably the worst superior officer they’d ever had.  “You men are undisciplined and disorderly.  You have shown a complete disregard for the lives of your fellow man.  Let me assure you there will be no civilian casualties under my watch.  We will not have a repeat of My Lai in my command!”</p><p>Fury’s voice returned to normal, but backed with a tinge of bitterness despite the years between the delivery of that speech and his recital.  “I damned near shot him for even suggesting we’d been mowing down civilians,” he added.</p><p>“Yeah,” Ross agreed.  “But I am not a grass green second lieutenant straight out of OCS,” he added.  “And your Avengers are not a platoon of soldiers returning fire on the enemy.”</p><p>“And that’s the point,” Fury replied.  “They aren’t a platoon of infantry.  You’ve never fought the forces these people were assembled to fight.  You’re coming from a completely different environment and criticizing men who’ve actually fought those battles, just like every grass green second Louie we ever had to deal with in the brush.  The good ones could at least figure out the difference fairly quickly.  The bad ones, like Glass, took far too many good men with them before their advanced stupidity caught up with them.  So, which are you going to be General Ross?”</p><p>Ross didn’t answer immediately.   He found his thoughts drifting back to that ill-fated, common sense deprived little butter bar, and the others like him.  He hated the idea of being compared to them.  In truth, if it had been anyone else making that comparison, he’d have brushed it aside completely.  But it wasn’t anyone else.  And, while he was being completely honest with himself, he couldn’t quite dismiss what Fury was saying.  Of course, that could be the nearly empty bottle of cognac talking.</p><p>Ross took a slow pull from that forgotten glass.  “Why are you here Nick?” he asked, attention glued to the light show in his glass.</p><p>Fury shrugged.  “Because I knew you’d be drafting your resignation,” came the reply.</p><p>“Ah, wanted to make sure I dotted the I’s and crossed all the T’s?” Ross asked bitterly.</p><p>“Nope,” Fury replied.  “I came to talk you out of it.”  Ross blinked at the seeming disfunction between that statement and the entirety of their conversation, then shifted a questioning look at his old friend. </p><p>Fury grinned back.  “The Avengers do need you,” he said.  “But they don’t need you as a retired General, and they certainly don’t need you as an ignorant butter bar.”</p><p>“Alright, I’ll bite,” Ross said.  “What do they need?”</p><p>“They need a mentor, Thad,” Fury stated.  “They need someone whose been there, someone who’s had to make the tough calls.  They need someone whose come through the valley of shadow and death and made it to the other side.”</p><p>Ross frowned at that, not exactly sure what the difference was.  “Tonight seems to be a night for semantics,” he observed dryly.</p><p>Fury grinned again.  “They need someone who can show them how they could have done better, Thad.  They don’t need someone to point to the mess resulting from their efforts.  Hell, every brick out of place is already another in Tony’s personal wall of guilt,” he added. </p><p>Ross cocked his head at that, an expression of skepticism on his face.  “Why do you think he’s so heavily invested in those reconstruction efforts despite the fact that he’s losing money on them?” Fury asked pointedly.  “That man became an Avenger to try and assuage his guilt, yet every battle he fights only makes the situation worse.  He blames himself for every brick, every injury, every death that happens on his watch.  He doesn’t need you to blame him too.  None of them do.  It eats every one of them up, even the ones that understand the inevitability of collateral damage when such powerful forces clash.”</p><p>“I never got the sense that any of them even cared about the damage they were doing,” Ross stated.</p><p>“Perhaps next time you should come in asking question instead of barking accusations like your channeling a certain dead second lieutenant,” Fury suggested.  “You may get more of a sense of the people you’re working with.”</p><p>“You ask me to be responsible for a group of people without authority over them.  That’s not tenable,” Ross replied.</p><p>“Not for an army, no,” Fury agreed.  “But these people aren’t an army.  They can’t be.  The ‘three bags full’, and ‘if I say jump, you say how high’ attitude supplants creativity with rigid adherence to orders.  But these people fight different fights every time out of the gate.  They never know what they’ll face.  They never know what weaknesses they can exploit.  They must adapt to each encounter.  If you remove creativity they will most assuredly fail.”</p><p>“And if I don’t, we may end up with another Zokovia,” Ross stated.</p><p>“You assume that wouldn’t have happened anyways,” Fury replied.</p><p>“If Stark had been forced to run his ideas through a chain of command before acting on them, Ultron would never have been created in the first place.”</p><p>“There’s no certainty of that,” Fury replied.  “Investigations by four different government organizations concluded that nothing Stark or Banner did had any causal link to the creation of Ultron.  One agent even suggested that the safeties Stark was putting in place were what caused the intelligence in the Mind Stone to move when it did.”</p><p>“That sounds like a causal link to me,” Ross said pointedly.</p><p>“Thaddeus, I know you,” Fury replied.  “Are you really going to try and tell me that if Tony had approached you with a means of securing the world that could have replaced The Avengers that you wouldn’t have jumped at the chance?”  Ross didn’t reply.  Put it that way, there was no doubt that that was exactly what he’d have done.  And then Tony would have started tinkering, Ultron would have been created, and Zakovia would have still been destroyed. </p><p>“Tell me, Ross,” Fury said, breaking in on that train of thought, “who might have born responsibility for Zakovia then?”  Again, Ross didn’t respond.  None was really needed.  If the Ultron project had gone forth he’d have been the responsible party.  Zakovia would have been on his conscience.  An unpowered human’s conscience. </p><p>He chopped that train of thought off before it could reach up and slap him in the face.</p><p>“I fail to see how this little pep talk of yours is supposed to convince me to remain in my current position,” Ross observed.  “I’ve never made any attempts to hide my distrust of your Avengers, and they could hardly trust me.  Well, maybe Rhodes, but he’s a soldier,” he added offhand.</p><p>“Trust is something that must be earned,” Fury said simply.  “You’re quite good at that when you try to be.”</p><p>“Am I?” Ross asked.  He’d never really seen himself as a friendly person.  He was hard-nosed, strong willed, and opinionated and he’d always liked himself that way.</p><p>“How many American generals do you think the world would have trusted to command The Avengers?” Fury asked pointedly.  “Particularly when so many of them were Americans themselves,” he added.  Ross didn’t respond, except to dip his glass in Fury’s direction slightly.  Fury knew he wouldn’t.  Ross was the type of person that could handle criticism all day long but failed under compliments.</p><p>“The truth is, they need your ability to win a consensus, more so right now than they need a mentor,” Fury said into the silence.</p><p>“I expect that cryptic remark means you have a plan that requires my ‘ability to win a consensus’ then?” Ross asked dryly.</p><p>“It does,” Fury said before climbing out of his chair.  “You’ve seen Barton’s last message,” he added as he opened his coat.  “You know Thanos is coming here,” he added as he pulled a fairly thick file folder from the inside of his coat and dropped it on top of the letter of resignation.  “The Avengers are not the Earth’s soldiers,” Fury continued.  “But I have a feeling they could use some help from them when this all goes down.  You’re the only person that can make that happen,” he said before heading for the door.</p><p>Ross gave his back a rueful glance before examining the file folder.  His amusement at Fury’s long-standing love of the Parthian Shot froze as he read the name on the tab.  “You really think this guy is the best way to handle this?” he asked, in disbelief.  “He’s a criminal.”</p><p>Fury paused, hand on the doorknob.  “That guy is a soldier who knows all about being on the short end of the stick,” he said without turning around.</p><p>“How am I even supposed to find him when the entirety of the FBI can’t?” Ross asked.</p><p>“There’s a field agent in the CIA that we’re fairly sure has been keeping tabs on him,” Fury said slowly.  Up until this point he still wasn’t sure whether he should give the name of that agent.  If Ross decided to get up on his high horse, as he was wont to do, and complain about her withholding information on a dangerous fugitive then the entire conversation had been a wasted effort.  Not only was there no way that field agent would ever trust Ross, but he’d be throwing her under the metaphorical bus by giving up the name.  She’d be hounded and tracked by every agency in the USA.  And worst of all, she’d have to stop keeping tabs on the man whose life was detailed in that folder.  Fury still had hopes of recruiting him, but it’s hard to recruit what you can’t find.</p><p>“Does this field agent have a name?” Ross asked.</p><p>Fury didn’t respond immediately.  He was analyzing that last question.  Every nuance, every inflection was under scrutiny.  But, surprisingly, he sensed no recrimination in his friend’s voice.  Sadly, that didn’t mean there was none; Thaddeus Ross was one of the few people in the world that could lie effectively to him.  On the other hand, if he made his decision solely on his friend’s capabilities then he’d be making the same mistake Ross had made in dealing with The Avengers in the first place.</p><p>He took a deep breath, as if to assure himself he was doing the right thing.  “Dinah Madani,” he said, finally taking the plunge.  “Start building a consensus there,” he added.  Then he was gone.</p><p>Ross stared after him long after he’d gone.  He knew the risk his friend had taken in giving him that information.  He knew if he nailed this Madani character to the wall he’d invariably get his friend as well.  And he knew that his friend was probably right.  It galled him to admit it, but the longer that conversation swam around his cognac laden brain the more certain he was that Fury’d had at least a few good points.</p><p>Finally, he pulled himself up to the desk and unbound the string holding that thick file together.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>The Statesman</p><p>Main Mess Hall</p><p>En Route to Earth</p><p> </p><p>“How is he?” Natasha asked as Tony let himself into the large plush dining room.  Everyone that could attend the meeting was clustered around two long tables that had been jammed together.  That list was not nearly as long as it had once been.  In fact, it took less time to list off those that could attend than those that couldn’t, for one reason or another.</p><p>As he approached Tony realized that they’d clustered themselves within their original groups.  One long end of the table was occupied by Quill, Rocket, Gamora, and Mantis.  The other long end contained Thor, Falcon, Widow, and Scott.  T’Challa and Deadpool were taking up one of the shorter ends, and Nebula was bracing a nearby bulkhead.  Tony shot a questioning glance at Steve who happened to be sitting in dead center of the last side of the table, getting a slight shrug in return.  The message was clear; he’d seen it to and tried to be a bridge.  It clearly hadn’t worked.</p><p> “Bruce thinks he’s just exhausted,” Tony said finally.  “Karen’s keeping an eye on him,” he added, as he tried to figure out where to sit.  The only other member of ‘his’ Avengers present was Vision, and his neutronium block had simply been parked in view of the group.  Just getting him on the gravity sled had required T’Challa, Cap, and Tony (in his suit) lifting on one side while Thor lifted the other.  The sled itself had protested the weight with a sound that was mostly high-pitched whine, with a little tortured scream thrown in.</p><p>Only Nebula had had the nerve to ask why they didn’t just have the meeting on the bridge.  Not the group’s stony silence, the meaningful looks at Heimdall’s fresh corpse, nor Thor’s enraged glare had any noticeable effect on her demeanor.  Gamora had then saved everyone the trouble by asking Nebula to help her move the wounded to the ship’s infirmary where Banner was filling in as ship’s physician.  It was clear that the two-toned blue woman hadn’t see the point, but at least she went.</p><p>Now she stood there, deliberately distancing herself from all present groups, seeming bored. </p><p>Not that that helped Tony pick a spot.  If he sat with Cap, he’d be creating the impression that they thought themselves the leaders of this joint group.  If he sat on the other side, it would feel as if he and Steve were trying to flank everyone else.  If he stood with Vision, he’d be distancing himself from the group just like Nebula was doing.  If he stood by the door, he’d seem indecisive.  If, if, if, if. </p><p>His mind whirred with possibilities, all of them bad, in that half second after delivering Parker’s prognosis.  He had no idea how Steve juggled these decisions so effortlessly, but one thing was apparent: Tony couldn’t.  Eventually he just gave up and headed for the closest chair.  That, at least, just made him look lazy or impatient.</p><p>“Speaking of the kid,” Quill started angrily “what the hell was that about?”</p><p>“What the hell was what about?  Saving our asses?” Tony asked.  It came out far more defensively than he’d planned.</p><p>“I believe he was referring to Mr. Parker’s decision to give Thanos the Mind Stone,” T’Challa interjected calmly.</p><p>“Yeah, that,” Quill said, pointing at T’Challa.</p><p>“I believe that’s called learning,” Tony shot back acidly.</p><p>“Tony,” Steve said in quiet warning.  Tony glanced at him, a hot retort on his tongue, but it died when he saw the earnestly serious look on the man’s face.  His mind flashed back to their talk about leadership again, and he closed his mouth.</p><p>“No,” Quill said again.  “Please explain how forfeiting the last stone we knew about qualifies as learning.  Is that learning to capitulate?  Learning to ingratiate yourself to the enemy when you realize how strong he is?  Learning betrayal?”</p><p>“Peter,” Gamora said, matching Steve’s tone.</p><p>Tony didn’t respond immediately.  When he did it was to toss a flat disk-shaped object the size of a coaster onto the table.  “Friday, bring up the relevant imagery please,” he said, somehow managing to avoid tacking on ‘for the buffoon’.  He was self-monitoring enough to recognize that the emotions he was feeling right now had very little to do with Quill’s attitude. </p><p>The disk emitted a holographic image.  An image of a battle still fresh in their minds.  A battle that none of them truly wanted to think about at this time.  It began flashing through a series of scenes.  Each one was of Thanos utilizing his telekinetic ability.  Sometimes it was him starting.  Sometimes it was it being broken, but every one centered on that one faucet of his power set.</p><p>“Alright,” Tony said, shifting into visiting professor mode “what do you see here?”</p><p>“I see a purple gorilla kicking our asses,” Scott said dryly.</p><p>“How?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Telekinesis,” Widow replied.  She frowned in thought.  “There’s something about how he’s using it, it’s as if-” she added before Rocket cut her off.</p><p>“-he needs line of sight,” Rocket said, sounding both bored and condescending.</p><p>“Okay, what else?” Tony asked, urging them gently on. </p><p>“Oh, come on,” Quill protested as the clips repeated “what does this have to do with anything?”</p><p>“It has to do with learning,” T’Challa said without taking his eyes off of the imagery.</p><p>“Wait,” Bucky said, perking up in his seat.  “Replay that last sequence,” he added, leaning in for a closer look.  Everyone else followed his example unconsciously.</p><p>“Friday?” Tony asked.  A moment later the previous scene started.  But instead of skipping to the next scene it restarted.</p><p>“He has to have a firm location to use it,” Bucky said as the scene started for a third time.</p><p>“What?” Scott asked.  “What does that even mean?”</p><p>“It means he has to know exactly where the object he’s trying to manipulate is,” Sam explained.  “General knowledge of its existence isn’t good enough.”</p><p>“Right,” Tony affirmed.  “Now, Friday, give us the twenty seconds before Peter socketed the Mind Stone into the gauntlet,” Tony ordered.</p><p>Again, the scene shifted.  As they watched, Tony’s hand came into his field of view.  It made a flicking motion and the Mind Stone sailed across the room.  Just before reaching its target it veered in a completely different direction, heading straight for Thanos’s open hand.  This despite the fact that Thanos had been temporarily blinded by Peter’s webs.</p><p>“He knows precisely where the Mind Stone is at all times,” T’Challa breathed, as understanding dawned.</p><p>“And this forgives giving him the Mind Stone how?” Rocket demanded.  “So, he knows where it is.  The kid should have taken it and run like . . . oh,” he added.</p><p>“Yeah, oh,” Natasha said.  “As in ‘we’d have never been able to hide from him while holding what was basically a tracking beacon’ oh,” she added bitterly.</p><p>Quill frowned at that.  “Okay, so how does socketing the thing for Thanos help us?”</p><p>“Does he ever listen?” Nebula demanded from the wall she was slouched against, irritation dripping from her voice.</p><p>“About as often as you say something nice,” Rocket grumbled.</p><p>“Rocket,” Gamora hissed.</p><p>“What; it’s true!” the racoon-ish creature insisted.</p><p>“It is still not a nice thing to say,” Mantis replied calmly.</p><p>“Which doesn’t make it less true,” Rocket shot back.</p><p>“The same could be said for what the biker chick said as well,” Steve replied evenly.</p><p>“Okay, what exactly did I miss?” Quill asked, sounding a touch defensive himself.  Understandably so, considering that the entire room seemed to have turned against him.</p><p>“Would you actually listen if we told you?” Nebula demanded.  The entire side of the table erupted in argument, as if her remark were a struck match in a methane laden room.  The others all watched in shock as each guardian began to argue with each other guardian all at once.  It was rather impressive how they managed to keep track of so many dialogues at one time.</p><p> Falcon leaned over to Lang.  “And Drax thinks we have problems?” he asked.  Lang nodded emphatically.</p><p>Eventually, Thor had his fill of the bickering.  “Enough!” he bellowed.  “Is this how you people normally operate?” Thor thundered at that entire side of the table.  “Just insults and accusations and blaming each other?  Nothing accomplished.  No plans made.  Just turn on each other at the first sign of hardship?”</p><p>As if someone had hit pause on a remote, they all slammed to a stop, a couple with mouths still opened for the preempted yelling.  They glanced at the other side of the table as if just realizing they weren’t alone.</p><p>Rocket shrugged.  “It’s always worked before,” he said ruefully.  That one deadpan remark cut the tension in the room by half.  Nothing could have removed that tension after the day they’d had.  Nothing except time of course.  But it was enough to divert the explosion the group had been working towards.</p><p>A couple of people around the table grinned in spite of themselves.  Tony rolled his eyes.  Steve sighed in exasperation.</p><p>“Well if you don’t mind, could we save that particular approach as a last resort?” Steve asked.  Rocket thought about that request for half a second before shrugging gamely.</p><p>“I still want to know what it was I missed,” Peter said, still sounding a touch defensive.</p><p>“Each stone harnesses a different spectrum of the Aether,” Vision replied, craning his neck to look at the space rogue.  “As such, they have varying . . . not quite personalities, but it’s the closest word for it.  It appears that the Infinity Gauntlet’s true function is to force them to work together, but this takes time.  And unless you slot each gem in its place in the correct order it could take much time.”</p><p>“Ah, so the Mind Stone wasn’t supposed to be slotted yet?” Peter asked, as enlightenment dawned.</p><p>“It was supposed to be the last of the stones,” Gamora replied.</p><p>“So, how much time does that buy us?” Quill asked.</p><p>All eyes turned immediately to Tony.  “I’m not sure,” he said.  “It’s not just that the stones were placed out of order, one was placed before the previous stone had been conditioned.  That should make it take longer for the gauntlet to finish each of them.  Best guess?” he asked before glancing to the ceiling, concentrating.  “Three weeks to two months,” he told them.</p><p>“That might just be enough time,” Steve said.</p><p>“I would think that would be more than enough time to find the remaining stone on one measly backwater planet,” Rocket observed.</p><p>“Sure, but that wasn’t what I was talking about,” Steve said.  “I was thinking that it might be enough time for us to train together, get used to each other’s fighting styles and tactics.”</p><p>“Why?” Quill demanded.  “It’s not like we’re going to be fighting each other.”</p><p> “Why are we even talking about this?” Rocket demanded.  “We’ll be at Earth in three days and Thanos will be right behind us.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Natasha said.  “Clint’s on that ship,” she explained to the questioning glances.  “I know him.  He missed his window to destroy it, so he’ll delay it as much as possible.”</p><p>“No offense,” Quill replied slowly “but if he were going to damage The Sanctuary Two’s hyperdrive wouldn’t we have heard about it already?  I mean, Xandar is monitoring them.”</p><p>She shook her head.  “Not yet,” she said.  “He’ll wait to the half way point.  That way there’s nowhere to go for replacement parts.”</p><p>“That’s assuming he’s not captured first,” Gamora replied pointedly.</p><p>Natasha fixed the green woman with an earnest stare.  “He’ll have a backup in place.  Even if he’s captured, he’ll only have to hold out for one day.”</p><p>“He won’t make six hours,” Nebula stated.</p><p>“You underestimate him,” Nat replied.</p><p>“You underestimate his captor,” Nebula replied evenly.</p><p>“What difference does it make?” Rocket cut in.  “If your buddy succeeds, we’ll have a month to find the stone and move it before he gets there.  Otherwise we’ll have to fight for it.  Either way, three days isn’t enough time to train.”</p><p>“We could have as much as two months,” Steve pointed out.  “Every day counts.  Every day is a chance to improve upon today’s performance.  We can’t just keep blundering into people.”</p><p>“Seemed to work pretty well up until the human’s shoddy workmanship became a problem,” Rocket said snidely, glaring at Tony.  He hadn’t been there of course, but he’d heard about what happened.</p><p>“I don’t recall your technology doing any better,” Tony snapped back.</p><p>“Really?” Rocket yelled back incredulously “None of our tech locked people in metal coffins!  Everyone but you and your buddy,” he added.</p><p>“Yeah, what was with that?” Sam asked, mostly curious.</p><p>Tony shifted his glare from Rocket to Sam, before recognizing his tone.  He sighed.  “My AIs require extra levels of protection from electromagnetic spikes.”</p><p>“Yeah, but your suit was seriously damaged,” Quill said.  “How come the black suit got off so lightly.”</p><p>“Because he didn’t build it,” Sam replied, perhaps just a touch smugly.</p><p>“I built the suit,” Tony said tiredly.  Just bringing up Rhodes’s suit was enough to start the self-recrimination app in his brain up.  “The Air Force took control of it, modifying its armor and weapons.  Since they didn’t understand my version of EMP hardening they added their own over the top,” he explained.</p><p>“So why didn’t you make the rest of them like that?” Rocket asked.</p><p>“Because I never expected to encounter an EM Pulse equivalent to a thousand nuclear bombs,” Tony snapped, exaggerating slightly.  “The suit could never survive that anyways.”</p><p>“Well it’s a good thing we had one that could . . .” Steve said, trailing off at Tony’s look.  His goal had been to mend a fence, not bring up Rhodes’s death.  He had his own ideas as to whom to blame for that, but he also knew what Tony was thinking. </p><p>Tony hadn’t snapped because Rocket pressed him.  Tony had snapped at Rocket because, even though he’d had no reason to overbuild his suits to such a ridiculous degree, he knew that if he had Rhodes wouldn’t have had to do his hero thing.  It was utterly ridiculous, but that didn’t stop Tony from blaming himself for his friend’s death.  Nothing would.  He demanded the foresight of an oracle from himself, which only ensured his failure.</p><p>“Tony,” Steve continued somberly “I’m sorry about Rhodes.  But the truth is we’d never have gotten out of there without him.  You should be proud of what he accomplished.”</p><p>“Hell, I didn’t think he’d be able to do it,” Quill added, trying for once to be diplomatic.</p><p>“I knew he would,” Sam replied quietly.  “That man was a warrior through and through.”</p><p>“He kicked ass,” Lang put in.  Tony’s stony visage almost cracked at that round of endorsements.  He knew they were trying to make him feel better about his friend’s death.  He knew they were trying to place an emphasis on his friend’s choice to stay, as if he’d had one. </p><p>“He got lucky,” Nebula stated from the other side of the room.  All eyes turned in shock to her.</p><p>“Nebula,” Gamora said quietly in warning.</p><p>Tony’s glare returned, focused entirely on the Luphoid.  Everyone else in the room seemed to fade away as he slowly stalked up to the table.  “He died,” his voice grated.  “Doesn’t seem very lucky to me.”</p><p>Nebula stared back, completely unmoved by either his countenance or his words.  “Do you imagine that death is the worst thing Thanos can do?” she asked rhetorically; after all, the answer was wrought all over her body.  Thor’s face darkened as that question brought the fate of his brother back into the forefront of his mind.</p><p>Nobody else seemed to know how to react either.  Some felt pity for the blue woman, a state that would certainly have called down her wrath had she noticed.  Others felt contempt for her lack of manners.  Most fell somewhere in the middle.</p><p>“Do you imagine that’s the worst I can do?” Tony ground out.  He didn’t mean it.  He was tired, and blaming himself, and hurting even worse than when he’d discovered Obadiah’s betrayal.  He wasn’t emotionally equipped to handle hearing any remark that might vaguely be considered disparaging of his friend.  Everyone who knew him knew that.</p><p>But the Guardians of the Galaxy didn’t.  They all jerked as if having been slapped.  Gamora pushed herself back from the table, preparing to get up.  Nebula stiffened and pushed herself off of the wall.  She stepped up to the table opposite Tony, squaring herself away in preparation for combat.</p><p>Tony knew he was out of line.  He knew he should apologize, but he just couldn’t feel it.  He just didn’t care.  It occurred to him that sometimes knowing what had to happen just wasn’t enough.  And as he stood there, he realized something else; a part of him wanted this.  It would tear the two groups apart, he knew.  But it would also end the pain in his chest, the blame in his stomach.</p><p>The others watched, in various stages of preparedness, as the two glared across the table.  Deep down they both realized they couldn’t do this, yet their hatred made that knowledge seem distant and unimportant.  And every second that passed saw that tension level rise. </p><p>Wade had it covered.  “Nebula blinked, she’s out!” he announced, pointing across the table.  It was a little thing, a thing that half of those present didn’t even get.  But it was enough to interrupt the moment.  There was slight rustling sound as the table’s occupants shifted slightly.</p><p>Nebula and Tony jerked as if broken from a trance.  She glanced around the room before turning and stomping out of the room.  Tony turned to the door he’d come through.</p><p>“Tony, please,” Steve said simply.  Tony stopped and stared at the ceiling.  He wanted nothing more than to be alone for a while.  He really didn’t understand why Steve would want him to stay.  He wasn’t exactly the most personable person in the room at the best of times.  This was as far from that as it got.</p><p>Still, Steve had asked him to stay.  As much as he was against it, he found himself turning back to the table.</p><p>By that point Nebula had reached the door.  She slapped her palm on its control hard enough to break it.   The door whooshed open and she continued her stomp out of the room. </p><p>“Well, somebody’s a sore loser,” Wade observed.  Gamora gave him a quizzical glance.  She opened her mouth to say something, closed it, and stormed after her sister.  She reached the door and jammed her fingers between its seams, wrenching the split door open. </p><p>“Those girls need a sense of humor,” Wade observed contemplatively as the door tried to shut behind her.  It clunked to a stop at the half way point twice before sliding open and locking.</p><p>Quill shook his head at that.  “Don’t try it, I’m warning you,” he said.</p><p>“I don’t know, could be fun and therapeutic,” Wade replied.</p><p>“Okay, five dollars say the sisters find a way to kill Deadpool,” Sam said, pulling a bill from his pocket.  Several of those in attendance seemed to be considering that bet, not all of them from Earth.  Tony idly wondered what the exchange rate would be.  Too much to too little he imagined.</p><p>Steve squashed the buying of blocks before it began.  “If you guys are finished,” he said, allowing a level of annoyance to enter his voice.</p><p>“What else is there to talk about?” Rocket demanded.  “We got our asses kicked.  The human’s suits aren’t the answer, blah, blah, blah,” he finished.</p><p>“Training,” Steve said simply.</p><p>Quill frowned.  “Wait, you were serious about that?” he asked.</p><p>“We need to figure out how to work together,” Steve stated firmly.  “This one-man army stuff will not work, particularly when we can’t all be suited up, as Rocket pointed out,” he said with a wave at the talking Procyon’s direction.  Rocket opened his mouth to respond snidely before Steve’s last words registered.  He closed it uncertainly.  He’d clearly had very little experience with others agreeing with him.</p><p>“What do you suggest?” T’Challa asked.</p><p>“Battle drills,” Steve replied.  “We start with a series of one on one fights.  Then we move on to two versus two, then three vs three.  I doubt there will be time for anything more than that. Everyone should try to observe as many sparring sessions as possible.”</p><p>“You’re serious,” Quill repeated incredulously.  “All this because Thanos might use the Mind Stone on one of us?”</p><p>“No,” Sam replied.  “All this so we can predict each other’s moves in combat, so we can coordinate without having to talk about it.  Being able to fight anyone that’s been made into a zombie is just a bonus.”</p><p>“There are twenty people on this tub, Steve” Natasha pointed out.  “Half of them are seriously injured.  I just don’t think it’s feasible.”</p><p>“Banner says they should be good to go in a day, he thinks,” Steve replied.</p><p>“A day?” Sam asked, unsure if he’d actually heard Rogers correctly.</p><p>Steve nodded.  “Apparently the medical technology on this ship is something like a thousand years ahead of ours.  Well, that’s what he says,” he added with a shrug.</p><p>“Oh, so now we have less than two days?” Rocket asked incredulously.  “Well, that’s plenty of time.”</p><p>“Rarely do I agree with the furball,” Quill said “but he’s right.  We just got our asses kicked.  People need to be resting up, not wearing themselves out cramming a dozen different fighting styles into their heads.”</p><p>“But-” Steve started before Tony cut him off.</p><p>“-not everyone needs to fight someone all the time, Steve” he cut in.  Tony’s harsh words and delivery stopped Cap cold.  He turned a vulnerable look on the inventor, wondering if Tony was actually right about his motives.  He wasn’t perfect, he knew.  He was embarrassed to admit it but he did enjoy fighting.</p><p>But Tony wasn’t perfect either.  Damned intelligent, and capable of seeing things faster than anyone he’d ever met, but not perfect.  And Steve felt deep in his bones that this was important.  He didn’t know why.  He just knew it was.  It was a feeling he couldn’t shake.</p><p>“That’s not what this is about, Tony,” Steve said finally.  “This is about making sure we’re as prepared as possible for whatever comes next.”  He turned to the rest of the group.</p><p>“Steve,” Natasha said softly, making eye contact with the paladin “it’s a good idea but there’s just not enough time.  Tony and the others are right.”</p><p>Steve thought about it.   He still had this feeling in his gut that he was right, but he could offer no tangible reason for it.  And, truth be told, they made some good arguments.  It just felt like they were all banking on the best-case scenario.</p><p>“Okay,” he said at last with a dip of the head.</p><p>“Finally,” Tony said, more in impatience than anything else, before turning to the door he’d entered from and marching out of the room.</p><p>Steve watched him go, suddenly very concerned for his friend.  That last outburst wasn’t like him.  In fact, other than defending Peter’s unilateral decision, Tony had acted out of character throughout most of the meeting.  He’d flipped from withdrawn and quiet to loud and confrontational.  Neither of those were normally in his wheel house.</p><p>And threatening Nebula like that; he’d never seen Tony do anything remotely similar.  He’d practically dared her to kill him.  Steve knew his friend was hurting.  He knew his friend was feeling guilty for . . . well, everything.  But he’d never realized how much rage Rhodes’s death had unlocked.</p><p>Most of those remaining took Tony’s abrupt departure as a sign that the meeting was over.  The hall was suddenly filled with the rustling sounds of people getting up and heading to the exits.</p><p>“Good talk,” Rocket said sarcastically as he hopped off the chair he’d been crouched in and loped for the exit.</p><p>“Well, that didn’t go as I’d expected it,” Steve said aloud.  The only people still at the table were T’Challa, and Bucky.  Thor was still technically present, but he’d moved over to question Vision-no Jarvis, he reminded himself- about Heimdall’s death.  The comment hadn’t been addressed to anyone in particular.  Nevertheless, T’Challa responded.</p><p>“I am not sure what else you could have expected from them,” he said respectfully.  He knew he had no authority over these people.  He also knew that he couldn’t be in authority.  The only people who could meld this melting pot of heroes into a fighting team in the time they had was one of the leaders of its constituent groups.  He still wasn’t sure who that was going to be, but his money was on the man sitting across from him.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Steve said.  “I guess I expected us to go over the events of the fights, try to figure out what mistakes we’d made and how to avoid them in the future.”</p><p>T’Challa regarded Rogers for a moment before saying “You are a natural leader, Captain.”  Steve blinked in surprise at the unexpected compliment, but T’Challa went on.  “You are also the best kind of leader: one who leads by example.  You are the kind of leader I have struggled to be myself.  But natural leadership ability will not be enough to do what you must in the coming days.”</p><p>Bucky frowned.  “All he wanted was a simple debriefing,” he protested.</p><p>T’Challa glanced at Bucky just long enough to acknowledge his contribution to the conversation before returning his attention to Steve.  “These are not military people,” he said simply.  “I personally could not envision half of them being able to function within a military organization.  You can not expect the same level of professionalism from them under these circumstances.”</p><p>“How can we expect them to act?” Bucky asked curiously.</p><p>T’Challa pondered how to answer that question for a few seconds.  “Do you prefer baseball or American football?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.</p><p>Steve blinked again at the randomness of T’Challa’s question.  “Football,” he answered in a querying tone. </p><p>T’Challa glanced at Bucky, gaining a nod of agreement.  “May I ask why?” he asked.</p><p>Bucky shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It’s more physical,” he offered.</p><p>“It’s quicker,” Steve said.</p><p>“I see,” T’Challa said.  “In truth, I did not need to ask which sport you preferred,” he told them.  “Your characters told me that.”</p><p>“What does our character have to do with it?” Bucky asked.</p><p>“You believe in cooperation,” T’Challa said.  “You mentioned that football was faster and more violent than baseball,” he continued.  “These are details, like the shape, size, and composition of the balls the two sports use.  But those sports are very different in essence.  In football an entire team is working a single strategy.  Each man on the field has a specific role to play within that strategy.  If any of them fail, that strategy falls apart.  Baseball, on the other hand, is very much a sport of all-stars.  In any given play three or four people on the defending team may be involved.  And no more than four players can be involved in any play for the batting team.”</p><p>“Look, this is fascinating and all,” Bucky said impatiently “but what does that have to do with our failure to debrief?”</p><p>T’Challa didn’t even blink.  “You came in here expecting these people to act like football players,” he said.  “But what you have is an all-star team.  Each person works differently, has different goals and beliefs.  They have no team to draw on for emotional support, so they drift back into their old teams.”</p><p>“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t have suggested sparring sessions?” Steve asked.</p><p>“I am saying that this meeting could not have gone any other way,” T’Challa corrected.  “That does not mean anything said here was right or wrong.”</p><p>Steve nodded absently, mind already going over the events of the meeting again.  But he found himself replaying Tony’s contributions, or lack thereof, over and over in his head.  For some reason he couldn’t put his mental finger on each rendition bothered him more than the last.  There was something he was missing.</p><p>“Captain,” T’Challa said, drawing Steve’s attention from the door Tony had passed through.  At first there was no response.  T’Challa repeated himself, this time adding a bit of steel to his voice.</p><p>Rogers stirred.  “Yes?” he asked, turning to look at the king.</p><p>“I will spar with you,” T’Challa said.</p><p>“Thank you, highness,” Steve said with another dip of the head.  “Tomorrow morning?” he asked, earning a head dip in return.</p><p>“I’d join you guys, but . . .” Bucky said, raising his truncated metal arm.</p><p>“I am certain Mr. Stark can outfit you with a new arm,” T’Challa said.</p><p>Bucky shrugged.  “I’m not really his favorite person,” he said.</p><p>“He would never have helped my sister design the last one if that mattered,” T’Challa observed.  Bucky blinked in surprise to hear that Tony had been an active partner in that particular enterprise.  “He is normally a consummate professional,” T’Challa explained.  “I have never seen him like this.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Steve said, finally coming to a decision.  “Excuse me,” he added before rocketing out of his chair.</p><p>“I don’t think anyone’s seen him like that,” Bucky observed sadly as the door closed behind his closest friend.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“Tony!” Steve called as he rounded the corner leading to the passage Stark was currently stomping through.  Tony rolled his eyes in an exaggerated circle before coming to a stop.  He turned partially around, just enough to cast an annoyed look back the way he’d come.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Steve asked as finished jogging up to the other man.</p><p>“What’s going on?!” Tony demanded incredulously.  “We just got stomped by a psychotic demigod gorilla.  We’re down to one last chance to stop him from killing half the galaxy.  We’re stuck on this tub with a group of assorted idiots and psychopaths.  Three people are dead.  Another half dozen are seriously injured.  And here you are trying to organize American Gladiators in Space!  And you have to ask me what’s going on?” Tony finished incredulously.  He turned back the way he was going.</p><p>Steve caught one of his shoulders, stopping him.  “That’s not what I meant,” he said.  “I meant ‘what’s going on with you’.  Back there . . . I’ve never seen you act that way,” he said, having trouble finding the right words.  “And challenging Nebula like that,” he added before trailing off.</p><p>For a split-second Rogers thought Tony was actually going to open up to him.  But then his face hardened.  “Leave it be,” he almost snarled, shrugging Steve’s hand off of his shoulder as he turned back the way he’d been going. </p><p>Steve was thrown entirely off guard by the rank hostility he’d seen in Tony’s face.  It scared him; not so much because he felt threatened, but because it bothered him to see his friend reduced so.  He was so surprised that Tony was two steps further down the hall before he recovered.</p><p>“No, Tony,” Steve said as he caught up with him again.  This time he grabbed Tony’s arm with more force.  Tony fought to release his arm but was unable to stop Steve from forcing his back against the wall.  “I can’t just let it go this time,” Steve said in a voice that was somehow both regretful yet forceful.</p><p>Tony glared at him while he thrust his left arm towards his destination.  Steve knew what that gesture meant; he ignored it.</p><p>“You’ve been balancing on the edge of self-destructive behavior since I met you,” Steve said before being interrupted by the arrival of a left-handed gauntlet.  It flew directly to Tony’s outstretched hand, enveloping it. </p><p>“Let.  Go,” Tony demanded in clipped tones.  Steve glanced from the gauntlet back to the stone-cold expression in Tony’s face.  There was murder riding behind those eyes.  Given no other target it would fall upon itself.  Steve knew the one thing he couldn’t do was let Tony go.</p><p>“Fine,” he said resignedly, stepping back “put the suit on.  But you’re not leaving here until you talk to me.”</p><p>Tony didn’t reply, except to take a step away from the wall.  A moment later the rest of his battered suit flew down the corridor, enveloping him.  He didn’t move a muscle as he was surrounded by the swarm of metal bits.  The last piece to attach itself was his helmet.  He was still glaring at Steve as it slid over his face.</p><p>Tony waited for Steve to make a move.  He didn’t want to fight him, he just wanted to be left alone.  Even he’d been surprised by the intensity of his anger.  That small part of his brain that hadn’t been affected by recent events was screaming at him to back down.  It was fully aware that if he got into it now, he wouldn’t stop, no matter who it was he was pummeling.  No matter if he crippled or even killed them.  Just another notch in his conscience.</p><p>Steve waited.  He had no idea what he was doing, all he knew was that the rage boiling out of his friend’s pores would kill him if it wasn’t vented.  If that meant standing in front of the vent then so be it.  Despite that conviction, he had to admit that he’d never thought the suit could look so menacing.</p><p>When no move materialized Tony turned with the suit and continued his progress.  He’d barely made one full step before Steve danced into place in front of him.</p><p>That was the last straw.  That one tiny bit of sanity Tony had retained to that point was suddenly drowned out by rage as he unleashed a devastating haymaker in his friend’s general direction.</p><p>Steve ducked under the blow.  He knew he couldn’t match strength for strength with one of Tony’s suits.  It had been a fluke of luck that he’d managed to defeat him the first time.  A fluke that had not been repeated in all the long months that Stark had been ‘attempting’ to apprehend them.  In each of those cases Stark had either deliberately allowed an opening he could exploit or his team had managed to get the suit off of him.</p><p>But he had learned from those encounters.  Most people focused on the abilities -the greater strength and durability- of Tony’s suit.  Steve knew better.  The true threat he represented was housed, not within the suit, but within his skull.  Tony was one of the most adaptable people in a crisis that Steve had ever seen.  He was untrained, and still not that experienced in hand to hand combat.  But he was impossible to predict and he had an uncanny knack that always allowed him to find that one response to any situation that you’d never even considered.</p><p>In any normal fight Tony had a distinct edge.  But today he was also fatigued and angry.  The former slowed his reflexes, which were nothing to sneeze at.  But the latter, that nearly took his brain out of the fight completely.  It also meant he tended to overpower all of his strikes.  Not only did that make it easier to dodge said skyscraper felling haymakers, but it also overextended him.</p><p>Between that, and the fact that the suit was damaged and out of expendable munitions, gave Steve the edge.  Not that he could really use it, ironically.  He had to let Tony work through his anger, which meant lots of punching.  He was less than pleased about being the punching bag.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“He’s looking for a way to die,” Gamora told the group that had convened in the infirmary.  It consisted of those currently lodged there, plus their de facto doctor, Gamora, and Quill.  Gamora had come to check on Drax and ended up helping out.  Quill had come to check on Gamora, and subsequently complained about having to help out.</p><p>They’d done their best to recount the events of the mess hall, up to the point when Tony had threatened Nebula, to Banner.  They all agreed that they’d each had the same impulse at least once, but that such behavior seemed odd.  Banner had refused to believe the story at first, but the weight of testimonial was hard to ignore.</p><p>Banner shook his head at that.  “Nah, not Tony,” he said before turning back to Brunnhilde’s broken ribs.  </p><p>“Nebula and I have seen it before,” Gamora said.  “Even among those conditioned by Thanos there are a few that never adjust.  They come to hate more than just him.  They hate themselves, their actions, their entire existence.  They start to wish for death.  It usually doesn’t take long before they are able to find it.”</p><p>“Sounds like a bunch of weaklings to me,” Rocket said from his bed.  Ostensibly he’d come to check on Groot.  In reality he was as much a patient as his plant buddy.</p><p>Groot wasn’t doing too well.  Banner’s exact words had been ‘Dammit, I’m a biologist, not a botanist!’ which had gotten a few laughs, the explanation of which had been quickly tabled.  As far as Banner could tell Groot would be fine, but there was a crack going from his crown down to the side of his mouth.  What’s worse, it went all the way through to the back of his head.  Banner had promised to study up on his species just as soon as he could get a free moment.</p><p>Gamora gave a slight grin at Rocket’s remark.  “You know, that’s basically what Nebula called them?”</p><p>Before anyone could respond, Tony’s armored fist carved a path through one section of wall.  A moment later the rest of his body followed suit.  On the other side of the fresh hole in the wall was Steve, just recovering from the kick that had landed Tony in the other room.</p><p>“Well, I guess we can rule out the plumbing,” Rocket said, referencing their earlier wonder at the strange thumping noises they’d all heard about the point that they’d been explaining Steve’s first bid to set up organized sparring amongst all involved.</p><p>“I thought you said Tony wasn’t interested in the sparring idea,” Banner asked, as Tony got back to his feet.</p><p>“He wasn’t,” Gamora replied in a clipped voice as Tony launched himself at Steve.</p><p>“They are not sparring,” Drax stated as the two of them continued trading blows.  To their credit they were making a deliberate effort to keep the fight outside of the infirmary.  Of course, that meant those wishing to watch had to exit said place of medicine. </p><p>“I don’t know about you guys, but this just fills me with confidence,” Quill said, stepping up to the hole for a better view.  He immediately ducked back in as Steve went flying by, followed by a stomping red suit.</p><p>“This is ridiculous,” Gamora spat as she started into motion towards the hole, to break the fight up.</p><p>“No,” Drax stated simply, placing a hand on her shoulder as she passed his bio-bed.</p><p>She turned an incredulous look on the blue berserker.  “What do you mean ‘no’?” she demanded.</p><p>“They need this,” he said simply, staring back at her.  “They won’t kill each other,” he assured her.  She seemed less than convinced.  Nevertheless, she backed off.</p><p>The fight didn’t last much longer.  Tony hadn’t been the only one that had been tired from the day’s activities, and it was beginning to show.  Steve was slowing down too.  Between that and the few good hits Tony had managed to land it wasn’t long before he was effectively beaten.</p><p>Tony landed a solid hit that slammed Steve into the wall.  Steve fell to the ground.  Tony stood, seething over him.  Steve scrambled back to his feet.  He was barely there before Tony knocked him down again.</p><p>The fight devolved into a demented form of a kid’s clown punching bag.  By that point both combatants were operating entirely on automatic.  Steve’s loyalty would force him to scramble back into the line of fire.  Tony’s rage would knock him down again.</p><p>The only change was in how long it took Steve to get back up.  By the fourth or fifth time he was having trouble keeping the ground underneath him.  It had this vicious tendency to tilt on him.</p><p>By the sixth repetition Bucky’d had enough.  As Tony wound up for another hit the former Sergeant slid in between them, pushing Steve to the ground in the process.  He fixed the faceplate with a look combining pity and disappointment all in one cocked eyebrow and waited for Tony’s strike.  It never came.</p><p>Tony would never be able to explain exactly why his fist halted, mid-jab.  In any other situation Barnes would have been a far more acceptable target for Tony’s ire.  But now, his presence was simply a change.  Something he had to process, whether he wanted to or not.</p><p>“Will killing another friend make you feel better?”  Barnes asked quietly, indicating Tony’s cocked arm.</p><p>Tony blinked; it was as if Barnes’s simply question had been a splash of cold water waking him up from a trance.  He glanced at the ground where Steve lay trying to catch his breath.  His face was battered far worse than the last time they’d fought.  Everything he’d done, everything he’d been about to do slammed into his mind all at once.</p><p>Suddenly, Tony’s suit opened, expelling him onto the ground in a retching mass.  Not that there was much left to throw up; it had been a long day, which didn’t help either.  Even knowing that a good deal of that damage had come from the day’s other activities didn’t help.  He’d damned near killed his friend.  Damned near killed another friend.</p><p>“You stupid son of a bitch,” he muttered once he could speak again.  “Why couldn’t you have just let me go?”</p><p>Steve groaned as he worked himself into a sitting position.  “Cause then you would have been gone,” he said bluntly.</p><p>“I could have killed you,” Tony insisted.</p><p>“Yeah, but you needed it,” Steve replied calmly.  “Tony,” he said fixing the other man with an intense stare “Rhodes’s death wasn’t your fault.”</p><p>“You don’t know that,” the engineer replied, eyes already watering.  “I could have given the other suits more protection.  I could have, I could have . . .” he said trailing off as his throat closed involuntarily.</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “I could have recognized your introduction of General Ross for what it was.  I could have taken Crossbones’ head off instead of letting him blow up a building.”  He paused to wipe some blood away from his mouth.</p><p>“We’re not perfect Tony,” he continued.  “We can’t anticipate everything that might happen.  We do the best we can.  We save as many people as we can.  Unfortunately, that means some people will die.  Sometimes that means we lose a few civilians.  Sometimes that means we have to order someone to their death.”</p><p>Tony shook his head reflexively at that.  “It should have been me,” he said bitterly.  “I should have collapsed that last cavern when I had the chance.”</p><p>“As I recall, you tried,” Steve said ironically.  Then he grinned in spite of everything that happened.  “You know,” he added as he tentatively touched his very bruised face “just because I said you’d never make the sacrifice play doesn’t mean you have to prove me wrong every time out of the gate.”</p><p>Tony shook his head again.  “That’s not why,” he said.</p><p>“I know,” Steve said humor fading from his manner.  “You’re too busy holding yourself accountable for every person <em>we</em> don’t save,” he said, adding special emphasis to ‘we’.  “Too busy,” he continued bitterly “taking all of the blame, and none of the credit.  It’s like you’re terrified of discovering you’re a good man,” Steve added wistfully.</p><p>Tony laughed bitterly.  “That’s your problem, right there” he said accusatorily.  “Look around you for one second,” he added.  “Really look.  What do you see: a war profiteer, a thief, assassins aplenty, psychopaths, revelers in battle.  Most people aren’t as damned incorruptible as you Steve.  We aren’t good people.”</p><p>Up to that point everyone else present had been watching on impassively.  This fight hadn’t been about them, they knew.  They were just viewers.  They weren’t involved, yet at the same time there was this shared feeling that how this conflict was resolved would impact the entire team. </p><p>Then Tony had assessed their characters.  Most shifted uncomfortably as his remarks reminded them of their pasts.  Most couldn’t help but agree with him. </p><p>“We are not defined by our past,” Steve argued.  “Otherwise I’d be a four-foot tall asthmatic weakling,” he added in an attempt to break the mood.  It was less than successful, partly because a large number of the audience didn’t know his backstory.  “It’s who we are now that matters,” Steve continued, making a mental note not to quit his day job.  “Maybe we aren’t completely incorruptible,” he continued “but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t trust each other.”</p><p>“Trust?” Tony asked in an odd blend of calm incredulity.  “Like you?”</p><p>Steve’s eyes narrowed at his tone, but all he said was “Yeah.”</p><p>“Like you did with Hydra?” Tony persisted.</p><p>Steve sighed in disappointment.  “Tony, I get that you were betrayed by someone you trusted.  So was I, with S.H.I.E.L.D.  Everyone gets betrayed at some point in their lives.  It doesn’t mean we stop trusting everyone else.  That’s no way to live.”</p><p>Tony rolled his eyes with his entire face, a neat trick.  “Not what I was talking about,” he said.  Steve gave him a quizzical look.  “Fury informed you of Hydra’s plans.  You knew we were all walking around with giant bullseyes on top of our heads.  Did you ask us for help, try to even warn any of us?”</p><p>“I was trying to keep you guys out of it,” Steve replied defensively.  “I guess it didn’t occur to me that you guys were all on the list.”</p><p>Now it was Tony’s turn to look disappointed.  “It didn’t occur to you that we’d all be on page one?” he asked pointedly.</p><p>“No, I guess I shou-wait, did you say page one?” Steve said as the entirety of Tony’s statement worked its way through his fatigued brain.</p><p>Tony nodded ever so slightly.  “Page one of two thousand six hundred and forty-three,” he elaborated.  “You’re looking at number one of page one.”</p><p>“Why?” Steve asked.  Sure, it made sense that the Avengers would have been a threat to Hydra’s new world order.  But front page?  And why would Tony be number one?  Shouldn’t that slot have gone to Banner or Thor?</p><p>Tony glanced over to the now empty suit standing across from the two of them.  “Friday, how long would it have taken Jarvis to hack through Hydra’s security?” he asked.</p><p>The response was immediate.  “Roughly twelve point three five seconds, give or take a tenth of a second,” she reported.</p><p>Steve boggled at that.  “Twelve seconds?” he asked in disbelief.  “It took Jarvis most of a day to break SHIELD’s encryption.”</p><p>“And when he did that, they changed their key, but not the cyphers,” Friday supplied.</p><p>“One phone call Steve,” Tony stated.  “That’s all it would have taken.  And you want to talk about trust.”  Then he climbed back to his feet and stalked off down the hall.  This time Steve let him go.</p><p>No one moved for a few seconds after Tony’s departure.  Then, as if recognizing that the show was over, they all went back to what they’d been doing.</p><p>“Just what I need: another patient,” Banner grumbled as he came over to inspect Steve.  That latter failed to reply.  He’d never felt this tired in his life, either emotionally or physically.  Now he was setting records for both.  “Well,” Banner continued after a short examination “I doubt moving you to a bed will kill you.  Orderly!” he called over his shoulder.</p><p>“I think he means us,” Quill said to Gamora as he turned towards the downed soldier.</p><p>“I am not his slave,” she said tartly, following anyways.</p><p>“No, we’re orderlies,” he said as he stepped to one side of their intended payload.</p><p>“And what exactly is the difference?” Gamora asked as they hoisted Steve to his feet.</p><p>“Well, for one, orderlies get paid,” Quill said tossing a meaningful look Banner’s direction.</p><p>“Yeah, you guys can get paid for hauling bodies just as soon as I get paid for fixing them up,” Banner replied as he stepped over to the last empty bed in the room.  “Not that I have any idea what the magic bed of diagnosis, plus three, will make of his altered physiology,” he added as he turned it on.</p><p>They ignored him.  “You sure have an interesting therapeutic style” Quill said to Steve as he stepped over one of the ship’s cleanup bots.  The forty-four-millimeter device had shown up, mostly unnoticed, during Tony and Steve’s conversation.  By this point it was almost done cleaning up the former’s mess.</p><p>“Well, he won’t kill himself,” Gamora replied as they negotiated their way through the room to the bed.</p><p>“Maybe, but I bet the ‘punching bag method’ doesn’t see a lot of use in most counseling sessions,” Quill replied as they hoisted Steve onto the bed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. On Guilt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Board The Statesman</p><p> </p><p>“I must say, it’s getting a tad bit warm,” Jarvis stated.  Tony immediately shut off the arc welder he’d been using.  It hadn’t worked any better than the Oxy-Acetylene torch he’d previously tried anyway.  The metal surrounding Jarvis seemed to have a remarkable ability to transfer heat.</p><p>“Damned magic metals,” he grumbled, snatching the various ground leads he’d attached to divert the current from his friend.  Not that he was sure if someone built from yet another magic metal actually needed them.</p><p>“Make him phase out of it,” Rocket offered from where he was working on the installation of the new navigational console they’d received from the Xandarans.</p><p>Tony glared his frustration at the ceiling.  “You’re absolutely right.  Why didn’t I think of that?” he asked sarcastically.  He was starting to regret moving Jarvis back to the bridge to work on the block, but the sad truth was that he and Rocket had found themselves needing the same tools.  It just made sense to group the two projects.</p><p>Rocket shrugged.  “Eh, you’re only human,” he offered absentmindedly from where he was working.  Being around Quill so much, he normally would have caught Stark’s tone, but at the moment he was engrossed in an enigma of his own.  He’d managed connect enough leads to plot a course and get them on their way, but this ship was a product of the Binary Dwarf shipyards.</p><p>That was not good.</p><p>Those shipyards had gone out of business nearly a hundred years ago, primarily due to their penchant for setting their prices far above their competitors.  Their target audience were those ultra-rich fops who chose to flaunt their wealth by buying the most expensive version of everything they could find.</p><p>It didn’t surprise him at all that this Grandmaster whatever would own one.  What did surprise him was that he’d kept it running this long.  Aside from their exorbitant pricing policy the PD shipyards tended to design their ships . . . oddly.  For one thing, they loved stringing feeds from every system to every other system.  They claimed it was for the purposes of redundancy; Rocket figured it was more so they could jack up the materials cost of their ships.</p><p>Which wasn’t to say they’d built badly designed ships.  On the whole, their ships ran as long as any other shipyard’s, maybe a little longer.  But, that becomes a bit of a problem when the ships outlast their shipyard.  Parts quickly became scarce.  Of course, by this point most of the schematics for those parts were public domain.</p><p>They no doubt could have scrounged the appropriate schematic to build, if there had been enough of the original console left to identify it.  And good luck finding a parts list organized by ship design; those were deleted when the shipyard went bankrupt.  So, they’d been forced to take the closest thing the Xandarans had on hand, plug it in, and hope it worked.  The closest thing being a hundred and fifty-year-old navigational console designed by an eccentric shipwright.</p><p>Rocket was currently adding any surviving members of those yards to his all-time enemies list.</p><p>“I did try that, you stupid goffer!” Tony barked at Rocket.</p><p>“Don’t call me that!” Rocket yelled back.</p><p>“Do you think maybe you could not alienate everyone on this ship Tony?” Banner asked from the doorway.  Tony turned automatically, to snap at the intruder; somehow, he managed to refrain.  After all, acting antagonistically towards a man who regularly became a big green rage beast was extra-special stupid.</p><p>Instead he closed his eyes and took a breath.  “Bruce,” he said in a minutely calmer tone “what are you doing here?”</p><p>“I heard you hadn’t slept since coming back on board,” Banner replied evenly.</p><p>“You the ship’s nanny now too?” Tony asked, turning back to his work.</p><p>“You’d be surprised at how much crossover there is between nanny and ship’s physician,” Banner replied.  “So?” he asked when Tony refused a reply.</p><p>Tony tried to avoid rolling his eyes.  It was not the first time someone had badgered him about his sleeping habits.  The most surprising badgerer had been Natasha.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said, grabbing a random tool and turning back to Jarvis’s semi-portable prison.  “How’s Steve doing?” he asked as he tried to figure out exactly what he was going to do with a scanner.  He’d already scanned the object.  A holographic copy was currently floating over his portable workstation.</p><p>“Tony, you need sleep,” Bruce replied, refusing to be taken off topic.</p><p>“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” Tony replied.  In truth, he was closer to the beginning than the middle.  He also had no idea what to do.  Every attempt to free Jarvis had failed magnificently, leaving him spinning circles around square one.</p><p>A part of him knew Bruce was right.  It knew that the odds were very much against him solving a simple orbital dynamic in his current state, let alone the mysteries of a metal that defied any conventional understanding of chemistry or physics.</p><p>Neutronium was that metal dreamed up by science fiction writers who didn’t have the first clue what they were talking about.  Sure, a substance made entirely of neutrons would be almost completely inert.  And it would be incredibly dense, due to the lack of any charged particles in the nucleus or orbital shell to force the various atoms apart.  But that very lack of charge meant there would be nothing to hold them together either.  And even if you could, anything made of pure neutrons visible to the naked eye would be impossibly heavy.</p><p>By everything Tony knew about how the universe worked, this block of neutrons should have dissolved into a pile of individual atoms that would then have undergone beta decay.  Within fifteen minutes each should have decayed into a hydrogen atom with a stray antineutrino for spice.</p><p>But that hadn’t happened.  The best his fatigue and guilt addled mind could do was to assume that Thanos had done something to make the two nuclear forces work between neutrons, something no one on Earth had ever even dreamed of.</p><p>And the worst part was that there was a solution.  He could feel it skulking around the back of his brain, like a rabbit eluding a wolf.  A very tired wolf.  With a thorn in its paw.</p><p>“You’ve been up for at least twenty-seven hours, twelve of them in this room,” Bruce said pointedly.</p><p>Tony stopped and looked back at him.  “Has it really been that long?” he asked before turning back to the task at hand.</p><p>“You won’t help anyone if you collapse from exhaustion,” Banner insisted.</p><p>“Look, I promise, I’ll get some sleep just as soon as Jarvis can stand up, okay?” Tony snapped before snatching the scanner back up.  Maybe if he could isolate the strong atomic force, he could find a way to counter it.</p><p>Bruce hesitated.  “Fine,” he said in a tone of voice that suggested less agreement than understanding that that was the best he was going to get.  “I just don’t need you getting rushed to the infirmary.  I’m busy enough already, thank you.”</p><p>“In furtherance of both of those goals” Jarvis said “I believe Rocket may have had a point.”</p><p>Tony seemed less than convinced.  “What, having you phase out of the block?” he asked.  “We tried it.  You were there, remember?”</p><p>“Yes,” Jarvis replied seeming less than amused.  “Nevertheless, he may have had a point.”</p><p>“Besides the one on top of his head?” Tony muttered, causing Rocket to feel the top of his head in confusion.  He was fairly certain he’d been insulted.  The problem was he wasn’t sure how.</p><p>“Tony,” Banner said warningly.</p><p>Tony turned back to the doorway.  “Are you really going to stand there till I go to bed?” he asked.</p><p>“I have always felt,” Jarvis went on, ignoring the byplay “that the stone did not grant the abilities to fly or phase through matter so much as assist with the mental control required for such exacting tasks.”</p><p>“In other words, he needs to will himself out,” Rocket replied snidely.</p><p> “The density of neutronium isn’t exactly going to make it easy,” Tony pointed out. </p><p>“Well,” Banner interjected “meditative states have been known to help people control autonomic reflexes.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t happen to have any texts on the subject, would you?” Jarvis asked.</p><p>“No, but after my accident I spent quite a bit of time studying various meditative techniques,” he offered.</p><p>Tony turned a tired, yet incredulous expression on the biologist.  “Great, we’ll have him ‘ohm’ himself out,” he said sarcastically.  Before anyone could respond he cocked his head.  “Maybe, that’s not bad,” he said almost to himself as he stepped back up to his portable bench.  He pulled up a representation of the Jarvis’s brain to replace the hologram of the stocks themselves.</p><p>“What?” Banner asked curiously.</p><p>Tony glanced over at him before returning his attention to the bench.  “Meditation is just a way of achieving a certain mental state, right?” he asked.  “And a mental state is just an electro-chemical reaction,” he added as he started designing what looked to be a skullcap next to the brain simulation.  “That means we should be able to generate a field that could impose a shift in the mental state.”</p><p>“And the moment he starts to phase the cap falls off,” Rocket said pointedly from behind him.</p><p>Tony stopped suddenly, cursing the fact that he hadn’t caught on to that little wrinkle himself.  He pinched his nose as he tried to work out a way to adapt the base concept to avoid using a helmet of any kind.  Unfortunately, pushing the magnets further away required more power.  He’d already seen how neutronium futzed with magnetic fields.  There was no way he was going to be able to account for its interference right now.</p><p>“Fine,” he said at last before opening his eyes to look at Banner.  “He’s all yours Bruce,” he added, walking out of the room.</p><p>“Where are you going?” Banner asked.</p><p>“The land of Nod,” Tony said over his shoulder.  “I’ll figure something out tomorrow.  Assuming, that is, that eastern medicine proves to be less than successful,” he added before turning a corner.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“Well kid, how are you feeling?” Steve asked.  His face was still bruised from the previous day’s activities, but he seemed otherwise fine, which was impressive seeing as it had only been about fourteen hours since he’d suffered the more recent of his injuries.</p><p>Peter opened his eyes and focused on Steve’s face.  “Like you look, but on the inside,” the kid replied before closing his eyes again.  “And all over,” he added as his stomach cramped.</p><p>“So, what’s going on with him?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Well,” Banner started slowly “best I can guess is that this serum you guys concocted accelerated more than just his regenerative abilities.  All of his body’s processes: metabolism, cellular differentiation, heartbeat, even growth must have doubled at the least.”</p><p>“Excretion too, from the smell of this place,” Stark put in from the back.  He’d immediately distanced himself from the other two as they’d entered Parker’s room to check on him.  Since then he’d maintained the uncharacteristically quiet demeanor that he’d portrayed ever since his six-hour nap.</p><p>“Aw, and I was thinking I’d be able sell it as Spiderman’s special musk,” Peter replied sarcastically.</p><p>“Well,” Steve said, ignoring the little byplay “at least we don’t have to worry about him getting addicted to the stuff.”</p><p>“No way,” Peter replied.  “Never again.”</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “Beats being dead.  Beats the rest of us being dead too,” he added pointedly.</p><p>Peter hesitated.  “Yeah, I guess,” he replied, as if he wasn’t so sure.  He’d never felt this bad in his life.  The strange pains he’d experienced as the spider’s venom had wrought its changes on his body had been nothing compared to this.</p><p>“I’m pretty sure he’s over the worst of it,” Banner continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted.  “Biggest issue was the way the stuff affected his adrenal glands.”</p><p>“How’s that?” Steve asked, glancing back at Tony.</p><p>“Based on scans taken by his suit, it looks like his adrenal glands were hyper stimulated to a greater extent -and for a longer period- than the rest of his body.”</p><p>“What does that mean?” Steve asked, a confused look on his face.</p><p>Bruce countered with a confused look of his own before remembering that he was dealing with someone who was only a few years out of nineteen forty-five.  “Okay, the Adrenal Glands do a lot of things.  But in a high stress situation they release adrenaline and noradrenaline into the body.  Okay?” he asked, making sure he hadn’t lost his audience.</p><p>“Okay,” Steve replied gamely.</p><p>“Okay,” Bruce repeated “so normally when you encounter a high stress situation-”</p><p>“-like being pummeled by a giant space gorilla-” Tony put in.</p><p>“Yeah,” Bruce replied shooting an irritated glance at Tony “as a random, nonspecific example.  Anyway, the adrenal gland dumps a large amount of these chemicals into your blood stream.  Together they increase: pupil dilation, release of sodium retention in the kidneys, arterial constriction, an increase in glucose production, heart rate and blood flow, blood flow to muscles, and activates the sympathetic nervous system.”</p><p>“Okay,” Steve said.  His mind immediately recorded that data as physical changes, but he got the gist.  “And his didn’t do that?” he asked.</p><p>“No, it did,” Bruce corrected him.  “Then it kept doing it.”</p><p>“And that’s . . . bad,” Steve said.</p><p>“Normally the adrenals dump their load at the beginning of a high stress situation and that’s it,” Tony put in from the back.  “By the time they could produce more the high stress situation should have been resolved one way or another.  That’s so your body doesn’t burn itself out in its fanatical effort to save itself.”</p><p>“Burn itself out?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Tony said, trying to figure out exactly how to explain it.  Then, inspiration.  “Look, have you heard of nitrous oxide?”</p><p>“Yeah, I saw Fast and Furious,” Steve said.  “It’s Scott’s favorite movie,” he added.</p><p>“Right,” Tony replied dismissively “well adrenaline is like throwing nitrous into an aging Chevelle and flooring it; the engine might survive it once, but if you keep going, you’ll cause serious damage.”</p><p>“Who you calling an aging Chevelle you rusted old El-Camino?” Peter muttered earning a grin from those assembled.  Even Tony’s face cracked slightly.</p><p>“So that’s what happened here,” Banner said, taking back control of the Q and A.  “When Peter’s adrenal gland became hyper-stimulated it continued to release both hormones.  Not in as big a supply as the initial dump, but enough to do some light damage to most of his organs.”</p><p>“Is there anything you can give him for that?” Steve asked.</p><p>Bruce shrugged.  “The problem is that his biochemistry is even more altered than yours,” he replied.  “His own regenerative powers seem to be doing fine.  I’d rather not start messing with a system I barely understand in normal humans if I don’t have to.  Maybe a real doctor could,” he added self-deprecatingly.</p><p>“No, you’re doing great Bruce,” Steve said, placing one hand on the petite scientist’s shoulder.</p><p>Said petite scientist glanced uncomfortably away, clearly unused to fulsome praise.  “Anyway,” he said a moment later “I think he’ll be fine by tomorrow.  The best I can recommend is that he eat and get some sleep, in that order.”</p><p>“What’s on the menu?” Peter asked.</p><p>“Jarvis and Wanda are making some sort of Russian pancake and ham steaks,” Tony said.</p><p>“Sounds good?” Peter replied, sounding less than entirely certain.  For some reason his mental image of a Russian Pancake involved something with a consistency very close to stone that probably tasted much the same.</p><p>“In fact, I think I’ll go get you a plate,” Bruce said standing up.</p><p>Tony and Steve made eye contact.  “We should probably let him rest,” Steve said.  They followed Banner out.</p><p>Tony stopped just inside the door, the others waiting on the other side.  “Look, I’m really sorry kid,” he said, turning to look back towards the bed.</p><p>“Huh?” Peter asked.  Then “Mr. Rogers is right; it beats being dead.”  Tony’s face twitched at calling Steve Mr. Rogers, but let it slide.  Odds were Steve wouldn’t have known the reference anyways.</p><p>“Do you need anything?” he asked instead.  “A magazine?  Flat Screen?”</p><p>Peter shrugged.  “A sponge bath from Natasha would be swell,” he said, a grin peeking through the pain still evident on his face.</p><p>The three at the door gave a surprised laugh.  “I bet it would,” Tony said “but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”</p><p>“Hey, you guys are the ones complaining about the smell,” Peter pointed out.</p><p>“See, he’s perking up already,” Steve commented as the door closed.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Thor sat at Brunnhilde’s bed as guilt and anger warred for dominance over his mind.  It would have been easier if he’d retained no memory of what Supergiant had forced him to do.  But he remembered everything that had happened as she’d used his body against his friends, everything that he’d done.  Including everything he’d done to the woman resting in the bed.</p><p>He'd always prided himself on his strength and martial prowess.  He’d spent centuries honing his body into the perfect weapon.  Initially that had been to create a weapon of war for his people, but later it had become the instrument of their defense.  He’d never truly considered that another could take those very abilities and shape them against his will.  It had been a mental rape, one that had affected those around him far more than he.</p><p>He was thankful, in a morbid way, that Brunnhilde was the only one he’d managed to do any serious damage too; Asgardians healed incredibly quickly.  The machinery in this room had greatly helped that process along once Bruce had been able to read the manual.  Thor snorted, giving a tight grin, as he recalled the diminutive man’s stream of complaints about ‘practicing medicine from a cookbook’.</p><p>Brunnhilde stirred from the sleep that had taken her over since reaching the infirmary.  She had no idea what Banner had jabbed her with, and there hadn’t been time to ask before sleep had overtaken her.  Not that she would have complained.</p><p>A slight sound informed her that she wasn’t entirely alone.  She opened her eyes and reflexively lurched away from Thor’s form.  It was purely a reaction to what had happened.  She’d known at the time that his actions had not been of his design, but of another’s will forced upon him.  Yet, despite that, she couldn’t stop herself.</p><p>Thor darted to the other side of the bed, catching her.  She groaned as his arms contacted still sore parts of her body.</p><p>“Thor,” she gasped as he eased her back onto the bed.  “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Thor said, locking eyes with her, allowing her to see his sincerity.  The intensity of his look stopped her from saying anything else.  There was a message conveyed in that a look.  A message that he wasn’t sure how to convey with words, but one that she understood perfectly.  How does one apologize for trying to kill someone close to them?</p><p>She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault.  But she knew he already knew that.  If he didn’t believe it coming from himself then why would he believe it if the message came from her?  In the end she just nodded, accepting both the spoken and unspoken message alike.</p><p>They sat there for a short time in silence.  There seemed to be nothing more to say, yet neither seemed to want to end the moment.</p><p>Then Brunnhilde gave a short laugh that ended in a pained expression.</p><p>“What?” Thor asked.</p><p>“It just occurred to me,” she replied once her ribs stopped their punitive measures “we’re even now.”</p><p>“What?” Thor asked again.</p><p>Her face gained something of an impish grin.  “Well,” she said slowly “I mean I did sell you into slavery,” she added pointedly.  Then it was Thor’s turn to bark in laughter.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>The alarm sounded, as all alarms do, at two in the morning.  The first person out of their stateroom was Tony, heading for the engineering deck.  He beat Rocket by about half a second.  The talking rodent could be excused that lapse considering that Friday had woken Tony up a minute earlier to discuss some disturbing drive readings.</p><p>Whereas Tony only knew there was something wrong with the drive, Rocket had been able to identify the problem by the sound it made; it was not a good sound.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, we’re all here,” Quill said, allowing a level of irritation to slip into his voice.  He could probably be forgiven that; the alarm had roused the occupants of the entire ship, few of which had been able to return to sleep until they got some answers.  Those working on the problem had been infuriatingly vague in their responses.</p><p>“How bad is it?” Gamora asked, politely, casting a meaningful glance at the space rogue.    Somehow, she of all people had been cast in the role of peacemaker between these two groups.  She was honestly tired of playing referee; and since Quill was responsible for a good portion of that friction her patience with him was very nearly exhausted.</p><p>No one seemed to want to answer Gamora’s question, which hardly qualified as a good sign.  She raised an eyebrow Rocket’s direction.  Instead of answering he seemed to shrink further in his seat.</p><p>Steve surveyed the room carefully.  They’d readjourned in the mess hall for this update.  In many ways he felt a sense of déjà vu from their earlier meeting.  The same tension was there, like an undercurrent of . . . not hostility exactly.  Distrust maybe, and with just a tinge of unwillingness to cooperate.  Everyone was pretty much in the same spot, besides the fact that Vision -no, Jarvis he had to keep reminding himself- was able to actually sit at the table. </p><p>The only real difference was just how crowded the room was.  A good portion of the group hadn’t been able to attend that first meeting due to injury, or duties involving caring for those injured.  Now, everyone was here.  He wasn’t entirely sure if it was an improvement; the way tension kept rising they’d have a riot on their hands.  More people were just more fuel for the fire, and fewer people manning the firehoses.</p><p>“It’s bad,” Steve guessed into the silence.</p><p>That animated Rocket.  “It’s bad,” he mocked, trying to lower his voice to match Steve’s.  “You sir, are a master of understatement!”</p><p>Steve didn’t reply, unless you count a very slight upward quirking at the end of one side of his lips; he’d achieved his goal of breaking the silence and prodding one of those in the know to talk.</p><p>“Rocket!” Gamora hissed, falling back into diplomat mode.</p><p>“Well, uh exactly how masterful is he?” Quill asked, sounding slightly amused.  He’d caught Steve’s quirk of the lips, and was pretty sure he knew what the soldier was up to.  He’d also caught Gamora’s glare; mending fences was not exactly in his wheel house, but keeping her from ripping him in half had started to be. </p><p>A nervous chuckle worked its way through the room at Quill’s question, but still no answers were forthcoming.  Rocket had clammed up again at Gamora’s warning, leaving them back at nervous silence.</p><p>“The hyperspace force attenuation field stabilizers are severely damaged,” Friday announced finally, over the intercom.  Those familiar with hyperdrives emitted an array of crestfallen sounds, which did not make those unfamiliar with hyperdrives feel any better.</p><p>Falcon glanced amongst his peers before speaking.  “Um, could we get that in English?” he asked.</p><p>“It was in English,” Parker grumbled from one end of the table.  He wasn’t exactly fully recovered from the hell juice he’d helped create.  Then he’d been pulled out of bed for a crash course in intergalactic hyperdrive function and repair, mainly because whomever had built this monstrosity of a ship had clearly expected it to be maintained by either small Japanese persons or Keebler Elves.</p><p>“Well in that case, could you dumb it down a little?” Lang replied whimsically, holding his hand flat to the floor at eye level before bringing it down to chest height.</p><p>Of all those present Thor was the one to respond.  “A ship’s hull is subjected to phenomenal pressures while in hyperspace,” he explained.  “The faster you go, the greater the force.  To counteract this, all hyperdrive equipped ships are equipped with hyperspace force attenuators.”</p><p>“And those attenuators are damaged?” Scott asked.</p><p>“I wish,” Rocket replied bitterly.  “Attenuators go out all the time,” he explained to the volley of confused looks from the other side of the table.  “We’ve got plenty of spares.  What we don’t have any spares of are the field stabilizers.”</p><p>“And those are . . . what?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Hyperspace forces are chaotic,” Brunnhilde replied from Thor’s side.  “They fluctuate wildly, which causes the attenuators to go out of calibration.  The field stabilizers keep them aligned.”</p><p>The room went silent, as the other half came to grips with just how screwed they were.</p><p> “You said ‘severely damaged’,” T’Challa prompted.  “Can they still function?”</p><p>“Theoretically yes,” Jarvis replied “but we’d have to minimize the fluctuations inherent in the hyperspace force.”</p><p>“And how exactly do we do that?” Widow asked.</p><p>“By reducing our speed to that of a stellar moth,” Nebula said bitterly from what was becoming her usual position: slouched against a bulkhead.</p><p>“She’s right,” Gamora put in.  “There’s a direct relation between the strength of the hyperspace force and its variance.  The slower we go the less hyperspace force the hull is subjected to, and the less it will vary.”</p><p>“How slow do we have to go?” Steve asked.</p><p>Again, the room seemed to brace itself for bad news.  No one wanted to be the one to deliver it.  No one really wanted to hear it.  The silence seemed to stretch for at least five minutes.</p><p>“One percent of maximum,” Tony stated bluntly.  The occupants of the room shifted uncomfortably.  Even Nebula -she who normally presented nothing more than an icy, unmoving exterior- winced.</p><p>Bruce cleared his throat.  “So, um . . . how long will it take us to get to Earth?” he asked uncertainly.</p><p>“Just shy of thirty days,” Stark replied somberly.</p><p>“Which means by the time we’ve arrived Thanos will have been there for what, four weeks?” Gamora asked, an edge of fatalism creeping into her voice.</p><p>“How could this have happened?” Quill growled desperately.  “Stabilizers almost never go out,” he added.</p><p>No one responded, unless you counted everyone who’d been working the problem for the last four hours turning to Rocket; Rocket, who was currently attempting to achieve oneness with the chair he was sitting in.  The rest of the room quickly followed suite.</p><p>“Rocket?” Gamora prompted.</p><p>Rocket glanced around the room as if looking for an escape.  “Look, it’s not my fault,” he insisted in such a way that suggested the corollary was probably closer to the truth.</p><p>“What, exactly, isn’t your fault?” Thor insisted in such a way as to suggest that his patience was being well and truly tried. </p><p>Rocket opened his muzzle to say something snarky, but Thor’s gaze caught his, silencing him.  Normally he didn’t fear much, and when he did, he ignored it.  But ‘normally’ did not include annoying a god currently gripping his magic hammer who could easily cast lightning bolts at him as an object lesson.</p><p>So instead he sighed in resignation.  “The ship doesn’t have a drive feedback monitor,” he explained sullenly.</p><p>“Oh, good,” Lang said sarcastically “more technobabble.”</p><p>“It’s what tells the field stabilizers that an attenuator is out of alignment,” Gamora supplied.</p><p>“And without this feedback monitor?” Steve asked.</p><p>“A normal ship would never have let us even enter hyperspace without one,” Rocket growled.  “But this designer’s flit induced delusion was engineered to feed data to the attenuators from a massive array of hyperspace sensors lining the hull from the navigational computer via a feed I didn’t even know about.”</p><p>“I’ve heard of that design,” Quill said.  “It’s more temperamental and it costs more.”</p><p>“A definite plus for people building luxury yachts for the ultra-rich,” Sam said pointedly.</p><p>Drax ignored that insight to turn on Rocket.   “How could you not know?” he demanded.</p><p>“Like you even knew what a drive feedback monitor was before now,” he retorted.</p><p>Drax started to give a hot reply but thought better of it.  “I’m not an engineer,” he muttered, turning away from the talking rodent.</p><p>“You want to place blame, blame him!” Rocket added, pointing across the table.</p><p>“Me?” Thor asked in a tone somewhere between confusion and humor.</p><p>“Yeah, you guys just had to steal a ship that had been built by Binary Dwarf Shipyards!” Rocket yelled.  “Like I’m supposed to know how those whack jobs would design their ships.”</p><p>“There wasn’t exactly time to check the Kelly Blue Book,” Thor replied, gaining quite a few blank stares from those who hadn’t spent any time on Earth.</p><p>“Look,” Steve cut in forcefully “it doesn’t matter whose fault it is.  This is the situation we have to deal with.”</p><p>“Oh sure,” Rocket griped “it doesn’t matter when it’s one of your friends being blamed.”</p><p>“Rocket,” Gamora said seriously, making eye contact with him “we only asked how it happened.  No one here blames you, but you,” she added.</p><p>“But-” Rocket started before getting cut off by a look from Gamora.</p><p>“No one,” she repeated in a no-nonsense tone.</p><p>“Well, except Drax,” Quill pointed out not so helpfully.  He earned a few half grins spread amongst the assembled, and yet another glare from Gamora.</p><p>“Gamora’s right,” Steve continued into the silence.  “Looking for somewhere to place the blame is a waste of time, assuming anyone even deserves that honor.  What’s important is that its fixed, right?” he said, asking two questions at once.</p><p>Then something completely unprecedented happened: Rocket set that inappropriately sized chip he carried around on his shoulder down, just for a moment.  With a sigh he said “The lady in the box and I have written a program that should be able to manage the data.  We’ll have to keep an eye on it for a few days to make sure it works.”</p><p>Scott frowned at that.  “Lady in the box?” he asked.  There was a slight silence as everyone waited for Tony to explain.</p><p>“He means Friday,” Parker answered when no other was forthcoming.  “She’s currently controlling some bots that are stringing the data cables.”</p><p>“How long?” Steve asked.  Peter shrugged noncommittally.</p><p>“Five more minutes give or take twelve point three two seconds,” Friday replied over the speaker system.</p><p>“Good,” Steve said.  “The important thing now is to use this time as best we can.”</p><p>“Oh, not this again,” Quill objected immediately.</p><p>“Look, either Clint disables Thanos’s ship or Thanos beats us to Earth by something like a month,” he continued, dreadfully seriously.  “Thanks to Parker’s quick thinking we can still get there before then.  But, no matter what, we are going to have another fight on our hands.  Without the suits. </p><p>“And this time, we have to win,” he continued.  “We can’t afford the mistakes that were made on Xandar.  That means training.  It’s the only way we’ll learn to work together as a team.”</p><p>“I think it’s a very good idea,” Drax replied.  Quill motioned to the berserker with both hands, as if that statement alone had made his point.</p><p>“It’s a waste of time,” Nebula cut in gratingly.</p><p>“Oh, you have something more pressing to do for the next month?” Sam asked.  “Your hair perhaps?” he added, earning a glare from the two-toned woman.  Nebula pushed off of the wall she’d been slouching against, squaring herself away.</p><p>“Nebula, please,” Gamora pleaded. </p><p>Nebula glanced quickly over to her sister, almost against her will.  She seemed to think about it for far too long.  “Fine,” she said eventually.  Then she stalked to the nearest exit and out of the room.</p><p>“Hating to agree with the Indigo Psycho,” Quill started “but what good will that actually accomplish?”</p><p>“It will give us a chance to become accustomed to each other’s styles of fighting,” T’Challa explained.  “It will allow us to anticipate how any one of us might react in a given situation, and plan our own moves accordingly,” he elaborated.</p><p>“In short, it will keep us from bumping into each other in the next fight,” Scott translated.</p><p>“Or stepping into each other’s line of fire,” Sam added.</p><p>Quill considered that for a moment.  Lord knew he’d had to abort more than one shot because an ally had jumped in the way during the running battle on Xandar.  But some part of him, deep down, kept screaming ‘no!’.  He wasn’t sure why.</p><p>“I think it’s a bad idea,” he said slowly.</p><p>“Do you have a reason to go with that, or is this just a feeling?” Sam asked.</p><p>“He’s just afraid of losing,” Scott opined.</p><p>“Maybe he’s afraid of a little discomfort,” Wade added.</p><p>“I’m afraid of creating a culture of competition,” Quill stated.  “We don’t need everyone fighting for some stupid prize and worrying about getting stabbed in the back.  Tell ‘em Gamora,” he added, turning to the emerald woman.</p><p>Gamora glanced between him and the rest of the table.  “I’m sorry, Peter, but I can’t,” she said apologetically.  “I think they’re right.  We have to learn how to fight together.  Unless you want to go find some war we can get used to each other in,” she added.  Quill lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. </p><p>“Then we’re agreed?” Steve asked, scanning the table’s occupants.  The looks he got could hardly have been categorized as enthusiastic, but there seemed to be a general agreement.  Until he got to Tony.  The engineer seemed completely absorbed in his own private Hell.  He wasn’t even sure Tony had heard his proposal.</p><p>He wasn’t the only one either; it seemed that everyone was waiting for Stark’s approval.  In a way it made sense; he was one of the group leaders, short as his group had become.  Unfortunately, Steve’s reference to their previous fight with Insanity and Co. had served to remind Tony of his perceived mistakes, and the cost that had come with them.  The normally hyper observant tinkerer was too absorbed in his mental self-flagellations to even notice.</p><p>“Tony?” Steve prompted.</p><p>Stark seemed to give a small shake, as if suddenly remembering where he was.  “What?” he asked reflexively before dredging up his memory’s record of events.  “Yeah, pit fights,” he said shortly.  “Whatever,” he added as if it didn’t really matter.</p><p>It was hardly a ringing endorsement, but Steve knew better than to press the issue.  “Can you build a ring for us to use?” he asked instead.</p><p>“What?” Tony asked again.  “Friday?” he asked with a glance at the ceiling before anyone could respond.</p><p>“Construction is under way,” the AI reported.  “I’m placing it on the cargo deck.  I assume you’ll want a viewing area?”</p><p>“Please,” Steve said, casting worried glances at his friend.  Normally the man jumped with both feet at a building project.  Now he seemed barely aware that one was in progress.  “And could you make it raised?  It’ll lower the chances of debris hitting the spectators.”</p><p>“Do I look like an I-Pad?” the AI replied tartly.</p><p>“Sorry,” Steve said automatically.  There was a slight pause.  She was used to bantering with Tony.  He’d have had some smartass comment about her looking more like an Atari or some such.  In truth she rather enjoyed those interchanges.</p><p>“I’ll have to cut into the deck above to provide enough space for Mr. Lang,” she said instead.</p><p>“As long as it doesn’t interfere with ship functionality,” Steve said.</p><p>There was another pause.  “I should be able to find a spot on the cargo deck that won’t interfere,” she said.  “I will have to use the cargo containers and quite a bit of our available raw materials to construct it,” she added.</p><p>“That would be the same material set aside to make replacement suits?” Quill asked pointedly.</p><p>“Most of the materials involved can also be used to make the shell of powered armor suits,” she agreed.</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t think any of us will be wearing those again,” Gamora replied with a slight shudder.</p><p>“Why not?” Drax asked.  “The black suit worked fine,” he continued with his trademark lack of tact.  “Could we not make more like it?”</p><p>All eyes turned to Tony who, again, had to backtrack the conversation.  Once replayed he shook his head.  “I didn’t think I’d need large quantities of highly conductive materials,” he explained.  “A Faraday cage requires large amounts.  If I stripped and melted my entire stock of wiring, I might be able to protect two suits.  And I don’t have the materials I used to shield the AI cores, or anymore AIs for that matter.”</p><p>“That’s it?” Quill asked with a frown.</p><p>“Unless you’d prefer I didn’t fix your blasters, boots, or helmet, or any other tech damaged in the last fight,” Tony replied sharply.  There was no response.</p><p>“What about ship’s stores,” Sam asked.</p><p>“It’s a rich guy’s luxury yacht, not a warship,” Tony replied pointedly.  “They don’t fix something when it breaks down.  They call Triple A.”</p><p>“Most of what was available has already been used in repairs to the ship,” Jarvis supplied.</p><p>“Well, that’s settled then,” Steve said.  “Out of curiosity,” he added as a thought occurred to him “just how much of the materials you’re planning to use will be left over?”</p><p>“Between twenty and fifty pounds depending on the material,” Friday replied.</p><p>“I’m sure we can find something constructive to do with that,” Jarvis said.  “We’ll certainly have the time,” he added wistfully.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>On Board The Sanctuary 2</p><p> </p><p>Clint couldn’t believe how long he’d managed to go undetected.  For the last two days he’d managed to skulk around the ship seemingly undetected.  A couple of times he’d actually managed to blend into large groups as they moved along the corridors in whatever this warped version of a family did when they weren’t slaughtering innocents.</p><p>He’d been discovered on three separate occasions.  None of those sentries had lasted long enough to sound the alarm.  He had no doubt that their bodies had been discovered; he simply hadn’t had the time to hide them, nor the resources to clean the evidence up.  Yet there had been no alarm, no general search at all.  It had seemed . . .  odd.</p><p>But, considering that the father of this fucked up family would have sent Charles Manson running to the authorities, perhaps Thanos’s ‘children’ routinely killed each other for sport.  Whatever the reason, he’d managed to successfully dodge and parry with the army of misfit monsters on this ship far longer than he’d have imagined possible.</p><p>Now his time was growing short.  If he didn’t find a way to the engine room in the next twelve hours all his skulking around would be wasted.</p><p>“You know, you have got to be the worst infiltrator I’ve ever seen,” a very familiar voice said from behind him.  A voice he still had nightmares about.</p><p>Clint reflexively flipped around and fired a bolt from his sleeve launcher directly at Loki’s chest.  The bolt sailed through the image making a horrendous PRANGGG as it impacted the wall behind him.  The echo filled the storeroom he’d hidden in.</p><p>Loki grinned.  “I rest my case” he said mockingly.  “Natasha would have been a far better choice for this mission, don’t you think?”</p><p>Clint immediately flipped back around, firing a pattern of bolts designed to catch the invisible Loki who was probably sneaking up behind him.  He’d seen firsthand the insane god’s penchant for just that tactic several times during his short, yet memorable, service to him.</p><p>Each bolt sailed through the air unimpeded.  A series of prangs reported their impacts at the walls.  A moment later the apparition of Loki appeared right in the center of the pattern of dents in the walls.</p><p>“I’m not really here, Clint,” he said.  “It’s probably best you not be here either, considering your antics have drawn the entire ship’s attention.”  His observation was followed immediately by the sound of boots in the passageway outside.  A lot of boots.  “Oh, it would seem that’s not an option anymore,” he added pleasantly.</p><p>Clint ignored him, heading for the door.  The boots weren’t that close.  If he was lucky he’d be able to find a side passage, perhaps blend into one of the groups converging on him.  And if he couldn’t, he’d rather have room to maneuver than be stuck in that deathtrap of a room.  True, it had only one entrance to defend.  But he had no doubt that some of the . . . things he’d seen could make their own entrances if they wanted to.</p><p>Loki’s apparition appeared between him and the doorway.  “You can’t seriously be planning to go out there,” he said.</p><p>“I’ve blended in with them before,” Clint said, stepping through the apparition.</p><p>“You couldn’t have blended into one of your quaint science fiction movies, let alone Thanos’s children, without my help,” Loki said harshly.  “Who do think made it look like the children that stumbled upon you had simply killed each other?”</p><p>Clint stopped at that.  He turned back to the apparition.  “Bullshit,” he said savagely.  “You’re the reason I didn’t make it to the engine room in time to kill Thanos,” he added.  He’d figured out why none of the corridors on the ship didn’t align correctly within a few hours.  The fact that they’d started aligning after he’d missed the window had left little doubt.  He should have seen it coming.  Thor had told them there was a chance that Loki had been captured by Thanos.  He doubted it had even taken that much convincing for the Norse god to join them, really.</p><p>Loki shrugged off the accusation.  “Can you blame a guy for not wanting to be vaporized?” he asked innocently.  “Oh,” he added as the mass of approaching boot, or pincer, or whatever pod the various creatures of Thanos’s menagerie used to hold themselves up, stopped just outside the door “It would appear you’ve run out of time.”</p><p>Cint stared at the door as he grappled with the concept of Loki being on his side, even nominally.  “Bullshit,” he said again as he flipped back around.  “Why would you help me?”</p><p>The apparition gave a sigh.  “Barton, you always were a simpleton,” he said, a thick layer of disappointment covering his voice.</p><p>“And you always were a liar,” Clint shot back, scanning the room for something he might use to get out of this. </p><p>“As I said,” Loki replied “Natasha would have been far better suited to this mission.”  Barton didn’t reply. No matter how hard he tried he simply could not imagine Loki doing anything that did not directly help Loki.  And yet, Loki had known Clint was onboard since he embarked, and in all that time no more than a score of Thanos’s minions had found him.  And they’d all perished with that knowledge.</p><p>“Fine,” Clint ground out.  It went against his nature to ask Loki for help, but he had no choice.  “Help me blend in until I get to the engine room.”</p><p>Loki shook his head.  “I am not the only psycho-projective magician on this ship, though I am the best if I do say so myself.”</p><p>“What’s your point?” Clint demanded.  “With less back patting if you don’t mind,” he added.</p><p>Loki frowned.  “While none of Thanos’s magicians can see through one of my illusions, they don’t have to, to know it is an illusion.  Do you suppose there isn’t at least one of them in that mass of bodies in the corridor?” he asked pointedly.  Clint remained silent, searching frantically for a way out.  They weren’t quite to the time he’d set for his sabotage.</p><p>“Any moment now they will come crashing through that door,” Loki stated.  “They will crash through every wall.  Your mission is a failure,” he said.  “They really should have sent Natasha,” he added, almost wistfully.</p><p>Clint barely even registered that last.  His mind had latched on to the previous comment.  They will crash through the walls.  It was so simple he wasn’t sure how he’d missed it.  He himself had seen how week the interior walls in this place were.  He’d considered that Thanos’s children would probably come through the walls himself.  That was why he’d wanted to avoid fighting so many in such a relatively small space.</p><p>And they weren’t the only ones that could go through the walls.  He commanded the suit’s operating system to display the location of engineering on his HUD.  An arrow appeared pointing up and to the left.  He looked the indicated direction to see a pulsing beacon at thirty-seven degrees by seventy-six degrees.</p><p>“Thanks for all your help,” he called to the apparition, not nearly as sardonically as he’d intended.  Then launched himself at the ceiling.  He held his arms out with his forearms perpendicular to his path, creating a barrier between the walls he was crashing through and the suit’s helmet.</p><p>It protected his head, but did little in the way of cushioning the impacts themselves.  WHAM, WHAm, WHam, Wham.  The impacts started out feeling almost like he was being hit with a massive drop hammer.  But as he picked up speed, they became less intense.  The distance number next to the beacon began to shrink. </p><p>Unfortunately, he was also getting damage indicators from the suit.  Most of the damage was confined to the forearms that were taking the brunt of the impacts, but the back of the suit and the lower legs were also showing signs of increased wear.</p><p>He was just starting to toy with the idea of setting the suit’s self-destruct on a timer when he struck a structural member.  It wasn’t a direct hit, but it was close enough to send him careening through several other walls.</p><p>He crashed to a stop, already cursing his bone headedness.  Of course a ship this size would have structural members running throughout their frame.  But even worse, it made sense that those members would be more plentiful near engineering in order to support the heavier machinery there.  He couldn’t help but think that may just have been right; stealth and sabotage certainly didn’t seem to be his strong suits.</p><p>Between curses he ordered the suit to scan for high density objects and superimpose them on his HUD.  Suddenly his vision was filled with glowing yellow structures forming a three-dimensional spider web.  He scanned the structures looking for a path through.  As he’d surmised, they were indeed more abundant the closer he got to his destination.  One of said structures happened to be directly between him and his goal.</p><p>He flipped back the way he’d come as the noises of scrambling bodies reached him.  Apparently, few of Thanos’s minions were flight capable, but they seemed to be able to climb like geckos.  Clint blasted off again, angling around the first structure and continuing on.  The going was much rougher than before.  The need to maneuver kept his speed down, which in turn kept the violence of his impacts up.</p><p>The suit’s forearms were flashing red on his screen, which he was fairly certain was bad.  He was starting to wish Tony had included one of those handy arm lasers with this suit, but he figured there probably hadn’t been room after the addition of the rail gun like crossbow bolt launchers.  He still wasn’t exactly sure where the bolts were being kept, or how they were being fed to the launcher.</p><p>About thirty meters from his destination the left forearm’s armor finally gave out.  Clint growled in pain as a rebar shaped piece of metal jammed itself through that forearm.  He instinctively held the damaged arm to his chest, leaving only one to absorb the impact of the next wall.  Which meant the hole it carved was not big enough for the entire suit.  Again, he careened in an unexpected direction.</p><p>He slid to a stop twenty-seven meters from the engine room.  He considered detonating the suit right then.  He was probably close enough, he knew.  But, if there was any serious shielding around the engine room, or even protecting its various components, the destruction would not be as complete as possible.  He had to disable the ship for the maximum amount of time possible.</p><p>That meant point blank, which meant continuing his battering ram impression through at least four more walls.  He reached down to grip the shard impaling his arm and tried to pull it free.  His gauntlet slipped off and slammed into the right thigh of his suit with a clang.  He examined the piece of shrapnel, only to see a drop of his blood slip from it to the ground.  His own blood had slicked the metal rod, making it impossible to simply pull free.  If it had been larger, not something most people suffering from impalement wished for, the gauntlets could have gotten a better grip.  But its diameter was just too small for the human hand.</p><p>He tried to bend it into a ninety-degree angle, but without a second point of contact with the suit all that accomplished was to carve a larger hole in his arm.  He groaned in pain, clutching his forearm around the breach, as if he could put pressure on the wound through the suit.</p><p>Again, the sounds of pursuit drew his attention back the way he’d come.  Part of him couldn’t believe that any non-flyer could have kept up as well as they had.  Then again, they didn’t have to make the holes they were using.</p><p>He threw a snarl in their general direction and launched once more.  Again, he placed both arms in front of him.  He ordered the suit to lock his upper body in place and gritted his teeth in anticipation of the coming pain.</p><p>Even still, he was not prepared when it came.  He nearly lost consciousness as the impact seemed to make the shrapnel dance around in his forearm.  A part of him couldn’t help reflecting that now he knew what the wood felt like when he nailed it together.  The rest of him focused on staying conscious.</p><p>After the second impact he began to emit a long bellow that mixed anger, pain, and determination all in one.  Anger at the walls for being so stubborn.  Pain from what felt like the shredding of his entire forearm.  And determination to finish what he’d started.</p><p>On impact with the fourth wall the piece of metal was hammered through the other side of the rent armor of his left forearm.</p><p>Three walls later he made it to his destination.  Such was his focus on reaching the objective that he was half way across the cavernous room before he remembered why he’d come.  There was a moment’s hesitation before he accessed the appropriate commands.  Then he, the room’s occupants, indeed the room itself, were consumed in a massive detonation.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Thanos stopped a meter from where Loki was sitting.  The god of deception was sitting Indian style with his back to the entrance of his small sleeping quarters, apparently meditating.  He showed no sign of knowing about his visitor, though he most certainly did.</p><p>Thanos flicked a hologram from a device on his palm outward.  It expanded as it passed Loki and stopped a meter to the other side of him.  Loki opened his eyes to see footage from the storeroom security camera.</p><p>“You have betrayed me,” Thanos rumbled balefully as the footage ended.</p><p>Loki took a moment to choose his words.  “If I were to betray you, why would I do it in my own form?” he asked pointedly.</p><p>“You suggest one of my children would be capable of such treachery?” Thanos demanded.</p><p>“As the imposter pointed out, I’m hardly the only being on this ship with psycho projective powers,” Loki replied, a small amount of tension leaking out from his façade of calm.</p><p>“And of course, you have a suspect,” Thanos prompted, voice tinged in superiority.</p><p>Loki shrugged.  “Cresto hasn’t forgiven me for besting him in the arena,” he offered.</p><p>Thanos took a step forward and leaned down until his face was directly over Loki’s head.  “Cresto cannot project imagery through walls,” he said menacingly.</p><p>A spasm of fear passed over Loki’s face before he could get himself back under control.  “Of course, it could have been someone else,” he said smoothly.  “Perhaps Cresto manipulated someone else to frame me.”</p><p>“None of my children can project complex visual/auditory illusions through walls,” Thanos rumbled.  “Except you,” he added.</p><p>Loki twisted around to look Thanos in the eye.  “I,” he started before realizing there was nothing he could say.  So instead he offered one of those smiles that had disarmed so many in his past.</p><p>Thanos was not one of those people.  “Come.  Take your punishment like a man,” he said before standing back up.  He pivoted and began marching down the hall.</p><p>Loki followed him back to that terrible room.  Experience had shown that he had little choice in the matter; running had never done anything but make things worse, and Thanos had seen through every illusion he’d mustered against him.</p><p>Despite that history, his feet stopped when Thanos pointed to the instrument of his correction.  He didn’t want to go in there.  Every fiber of his being screamed to run from this room, try to evade Thanos again.  Somehow his mind overrode that impulse, for as much as he didn’t want to be here, he’d come to recognize that it was necessary.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Cooperative Competition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Board the Statesman</p><p>Day 3</p><p> </p><p>Tony watched the hologram floating over the casket as its imagery cycled again.  It had taken the Nova Prime nearly an hour to scare up the closest match they could find on Xandar for their destroyed navigational computer.  That had given them more than enough time to recover the crumpled remains of Rhodes’s body. </p><p>The original plan had been to take the various bodies they’d accumulated back to Earth for a proper funeral.  Then their hyperdrive issues had cropped up.  Steve had decided that they couldn’t let that unresolved issue fester in their minds for a month.  So, they’d held the funeral aboard ship.  There would be a bigger one of course, once they got back.  Assuming they had time.</p><p>It wasn’t the only casket in the room either.  Heimdall’s lay to Tony’s left, its black casing trimmed in the gold that had once been his armor.  The hologram over it replayed all the relevant moments of his last battle.</p><p>They hadn’t tried the same treatment with Rhodes’s; it was just a shiny black metal casket big enough for the suit.  Its only ornamentation came from the suit’s helmet melted into a disk and affixed to the center.  To Tony’s right lay an empty green and black casket for Clint, the man Tony had guilted into a suicide mission. </p><p>Only Clint’s didn’t have a hologram floating above, depicting his final moments.  They had no information on his last moments, if he was even dead.  They didn’t even know if he’d succeeded at all.</p><p>Tony looked between the cases and all he could think was that there would be more before this was done.</p><p>The recording of Rhodes’s last act started again for the unknownth time, drawing Tony’s mind from the nebulous future back into the morbid present.  He glanced back to the recording.  Even as he wallowed in his own guilt, he couldn’t help but marvel at his friend’s courage.</p><p>“You got your Warmachine story,” Tony said quietly to a friend who could no longer hear.</p><p>The door at the back of the room hissed open before he could say anything else.  “I figured you’d still be in here,” Natasha said disdainfully, stepping into the room.  Tony didn’t move.  He gave no reaction to her presence, or her words at all. </p><p>She was just starting to wonder if he’d fallen asleep when that urge to get the last word finally won out over his grief.  “Is there somewhere else I should be?” Tony asked in a dull voice, without turning around.</p><p>“As a matter of fact, yes,” she replied with a hard edge to her voice.  “The coliseum is finished.  Friday’s posted the first day’s schedule.”</p><p>“I’m up already?” he asked, mildly surprised.</p><p>“Versus Steve.”</p><p>Tony turned an interrogating look on her, but everything about Natasha’s body language and face suggested she was being dreadfully honest.  He could also tell she didn’t like it either.</p><p>“Remind me to have a talk with Friday about her sense of humor,” Tony replied, turning back to the front of the room.  He went back to watching the hologram over Rhodes’s casket.</p><p>She waited nearly a full minute, but Tony gave no indication of moving.  “You coming?” she asked pointedly.</p><p>“Seems like a bad idea.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Are you kidding?” Tony demanded, half turning to her again.  “Last time we fought I nearly killed him.  I would have if Friday hadn’t been adjusting the suit’s limiters down.”</p><p>“There were extenuating circumstances,” Natasha pointed out.</p><p>“Losing control is not an extenuating circumstance,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Damn it, Tony,” she snapped, taking a few more steps into the room “you are not the only responsible party in this group.”</p><p>“No, I’m the irresponsible party,” Tony ground out.  “I make decisions and people die.  People listen to me and they die.  Or they end up a cripple,” he added bitterly before turning back to his case in point.  “Then they die.  But not me,” he almost whispered.  “I get to go on, so I can make more bad decisions.  So other p-” he started before she cut him off</p><p>“Decisions like trusting the big green guy?” Nat asked pointedly.  “Or creating Vision?  Decisions like hand delivering a hot thermo-nuclear warhead to an enemy fleet, or risking yourself to vaporize a robot made meteor?  Decisions like rolling with the punches while keeping one hand on the wheel with the accords?” she added.</p><p>“Yeah that worked out well,” Tony replied sarcastically.</p><p>“So, you’re not perfect,” Nat snapped.  “Get over it.  None of us are.  We’re just not so arrogant as to expect perfection from ourselves.  We make the best decisions we can.  And when we make a mistake, we do our best to learn from it instead of wallowing in the fact that we made one.”</p><p>“Tell me that when you’ve killed Steve,” Tony countered.</p><p>“Really?” she asked incredulously, one eyebrow raised.  “I’m not aware of you killing any of us.  Thor ordered Heimdall to stay on the ship,” she said, gesturing to his casket.  “And, as I recall, you disagreed with Rhodes’s choice.”</p><p>Tony shook his head.  “It was a false choice.  A false choice pushed onto him by my ineptness and his honor.”</p><p>“Which makes it no less his choice,” she ground out, suddenly angry.  “Nor does it make it any less than the choice he would have made,” she added.  “Look at him,” she added, gesturing to the hologram.  “You had nothing to do with it, except that you were his friend that he wanted to keep safe.”</p><p>“I suppose you’d say the same about Clint?” he asked.</p><p>Natasha’s eyes narrowed.  “What exactly do you think you had to do with <em>his</em> choice?” she asked confused.</p><p>“How about guilting him into a suicide mission,” Tony snapped.</p><p>“I hate to break it to you Tony, but I really don’t think Clint cared what you thought of him,” she replied.</p><p>“His last words made it damned clear he went on that mission because of his guilt over dragging Wanda into this mess,” Tony said.</p><p>“Wrong,” Nat said with Neutronium in her voice.  “He felt guilty.  And he went on the mission.  The two are not related.”  Tony didn’t reply.  “What; you thought he’d kill himself just to look better in your eyes?” she demanded.  “News flash Tony,” she continued “he didn’t do it for you.  He didn’t do it for Wanda either.  He did what he did for his family.  He did it to try and keep them safe.  You had nothing to do with it.”</p><p>She took a breath before continuing.  “Rhodes and Clint were not children.  They made their choices.  Not you.  Don’t you dare take that away from them.”  Tony flinched at that.  The idea that, by taking responsibility for their actions he might in fact be stealing something from same, hadn’t even occurred to him.  He couldn’t refute that either.  The two went hand in hand.</p><p>“I didn’t know Rhodes very well,” Natasha continued softly “but I knew Clint.  And I know he wouldn’t want you to blame yourself for his choice.”</p><p>“I’d like to believe that,” Tony admitted softly.</p><p>“Why don’t you?” Natasha asked curiously.</p><p>“Because the person saying it is one of the few people in this world who’s successfully pulled the wool over my eyes,” he replied bluntly.</p><p>Natasha’s face squinted in confusion momentarily before she realized what he was talking about.  For a short time, she’d worked undercover as Tony’s secretary for Fury.  It hadn’t even been that long an assignment; certainly not long enough for someone with her experience to trip themselves up.  But apparently Tony had never gotten over the idea that she could lie convincingly to him.</p><p>“I didn’t fool you, Tony,” she admitted.  “I knew from your dossier that I couldn’t.  I just . . . misdirected your attention.”</p><p>“What the hell does that mean?” Tony asked.</p><p>Nat shrugged.  “You were terrified of hurting Pepper,” she explained.  “All I had to do was bat my eyelashes at you a few times and all you saw when you looked at me was your old tomcatting behavior.  I didn’t stop you from seeing me for what I was.  You stopped yourself.  You stopped yourself because, whatever you were in the past, you’ve become a good man.” </p><p>Again, Tony didn’t reply.  She understood that response, probably better than he did; before he became Ironman he’d seen himself as a good man making the world a better place for everyone.  Then he’d come face to face with the fact that he’d been being used by an evil man.  A reasonable person would have taken from that revelation the moral that they must make people earn their trust.  But Tony . . . Tony had simply learned not to trust.  Then she’d come along and reinforced that feeling.</p><p>“I’m sorry Tony,” she said suddenly.  “I was just doing my job.  Fury knew something was wrong but he didn’t know what.  He was worried about you.”</p><p>“He never struck me as the sentimental type,” Tony replied laconically.</p><p>She shrugged.  “He hides it as best he can, but that’s not why he assigned me.  He knew we needed you.  We still do.”</p><p>“I . . .” Tony started.  He’d been about to warn her that he couldn’t be trusted, but he wasn’t so sure now.  He wanted to believe her.  Who doesn’t want to believe the good things people say about them?  But his track record said otherwise.</p><p>“I know it’s cliché,” Nat said “but let me ask you this; what would Rhodes have wanted you to do?”</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “He’d have told me to get off my ass,” he said without even having to think about it.  Lord knew he’d heard those words from the man enough times in life.  “That man didn’t know how to quit,” he added.</p><p>“Something to think about,” she said pointedly.  She started to say more, but decided against it.  You can only push a person so far.  They have to come the rest of the way themselves.  “I’ll tell Steve you were busy,” she said instead, turning to go.</p><p>“Natasha,” Tony said, stopping her midturn.</p><p>“Yes?” she asked, an inquisitive look on her face.  Tony hadn’t called her by her first name since he’d learned her identity.  It was always Agent Romanov, or a variation of Black Widow, or once, ‘hey you’.  Never by her name.  That was important, though she wasn’t sure why.</p><p>“How do you do it?” Tony asked, finally turning all the way around and making eye contact with her.</p><p>“How do I do what?” she asked, even more confused.</p><p>“Fight so far out of your weight class,” Tony elaborated.  “You’re like a twelve-year-old climbing into the ring with a professional heavyweight boxer.”</p><p>She nearly made a flip comment about how that analogy made her seem ineffective, but the strangely serious look in his eyes stopped her.  She’d never seen that look in Tony before.  It was more than just serious; it was fear.  It was the look of a man who’d conquered all, be it engineering, science, women, or villains, for his entire life up until now.  It was the look of a man who’d lost more than just friends; he’d lost that arrogant confidence in his ability to find a solution to any problem.</p><p>As infuriating as that confidence had been on occasion, a part of her mourned its loss.</p><p>She sighed instead.  “Tony, you like to blame yourself for the people you couldn’t save,” she said.  “You have no idea what it’s like to actually murder someone.  You’ve never held ultimate power over a life.  You’ve never chosen to exercise that power.  I-” she started before pausing to collect herself.  She could speak flippantly about this subject.  She could skirt its edges.  She could use it to get an enemy to reveal his secret plan.  But she’d never spoken frankly about it.  It was far harder than she’d thought to simply lay the horrors she was responsible for out for judgement.</p><p>“Not all of the targets I was payed to kill were good people,” she continued “but there were enough of them.  I owe it to them to make some sort of positive impact in their place.”</p><p>Tony’s brow furrowed in skepticism.  “Helping to save the world a couple of times didn’t balance the ledger?” he asked her.</p><p>She gave a slight grin.  “That’s what Fury said,” she replied.  Then she gave a little half shrug.   “I guess . . . it’s what put me on the team, but it’s not why I’m still here.”  Another little pause.  “I guess I’ve continued to fight because . . . because, somewhere along the way this group of misfits became my family.  I fight because doing any less would be another betrayal.  I’ve had my share of those,” she added, looking away from him in shame.</p><p>“I guess that makes you the good person in this conversation,” Tony replied pointedly.</p><p>Nat turned back to him.  “Tony, everyone has something they’re dealing with,” she ground out angrily.  “The difference is, some of us don’t feel sorry for ourselves while we’re doing it,” she added before turning, again, to stomp out.</p><p>Again, Tony’s voice stopped her, though this time she’d made it far enough to trigger the door.  “You make it sound so easy,” he said quietly.  She twisted around, preparing another shot at his self-pity, only to find that he’d turned back to the front of the room.  She wasn’t even sure the comment had been for her.</p><p>“T’Challa, Gamora, and I are organizing an evening self-defense class in the coliseum,” she said, forcing the indignant rage his remark had sparked back down.  Tony didn’t reply.  “I want you to attend,” she added, still gaining no response.  Then she left.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“Who are we still waiting for?” Drax asked impatiently.  Whatever this particular team meeting was about it was interfering with his first bout in the brand-new coliseum. </p><p>“We’re waiting for Peter,” Steve said.  As far as anyone knew, he and Tony were the only ones that knew what this meeting was about.</p><p>“Um, right here,” Quill said raising a hand.</p><p>“The other Peter,” Tony replied shortly.</p><p>“I’m right here,” that worthy said, jogging into the room “I was in the shower when the call came in,” he offered as explanation for his tardiness.  On closer inspection they could see the clothes he was wearing sticking slightly to his skin.</p><p>“No doubt spitting webs all over the place,” Quill replied with a playful grin.</p><p>Parker missed it completely.  “No, I don’t make webbing with my body,” he informed them.  He got as far as “That comes from-” before the various looks of amusement confronting him registered.  “Oh, ha, ha,” he said, clearly not amused.  The only two not amused to some extent were Tony and Steve.</p><p>Tony reached forward and activated the screen, preempting the spontaneous banter session before it could get going.  It wasn’t that he was worried about protecting Peter; the kid could hold his own against any of them just fine, verbally or physically.  He just wasn’t in the mood.</p><p>All amusement vanished from the room like air from a basketball hit by Mjolnir as Thanos’s face filled the screen.  Even as a digital representation, the man was intimidating.  What’s worse, he seemed to know it.  He waited, deliberately, eyes roaming over those in the pickup, until that aura of his had permeated the room before speaking.  In the background they could hear the faint sounds of his ship groaning and rumbling.  And almost lost in those were the sounds of screams, no doubt for ambiance.</p><p>Once the effect of his visage had finished, he grinned.  It was not a pleasant grin. “I must say you surprised me,” he said in an almost complimentary tone.  But, if Gamora and Nebula’s reaction to same was any indication, it wasn’t.  Both of them had subconsciously gone stiff.  Well, stiffer than they’d become when they’d first viewed their father’s likeness.</p><p>“I never expected any of you to show the strength to send one of your own to die,” he continued.  “Except my girls of course,” he added.  “And they would have known the futility of such a move.”</p><p>“Who says we sent anyone anywhere?” Tony asked cryptically.</p><p>Thanos grinned.  “A pathetic deception,” he said as his image was replaced by Clint’s suit battering its way through the interior walls of a spaceship.  “Unless, you suggest this is not one of your medieval suits of armor,” he added as it careened off of a structural member.  It picked itself up and began bashing through more walls.  A few seconds later it arrived in a large room.  There was the briefest hint of a white-hot explosion emanating from the suit before the camera feed died.</p><p>Steve glanced at Tony.  The other man’s face had taken on a rigid look.  He wasn’t surprised.  Natasha had warned him that the engineer blamed himself for pushing Clint into that mission.  He’d added his own assurances to hers that -Tony’s self-ridicule or no- Clint would have made the same choice.  And, to his credit, Tony had seemed to accept that.  But apparently the self-recrimination track was a hard one to stop running around on.  By now the grooves had no doubt been worn several meters down. </p><p>“Yes, that’s our man,” Steve admitted solemnly.</p><p>“A wasted effort,” Thanos gloated.  “As all of your efforts have been.  I will not be stopped, least of all by a group of puny insects like you.”</p><p>“You seem stopped at the moment,” Tony observed.  “And all it took was the effort of one puny insect.”</p><p>“A minor delay,” Thanos returned, waving his hand as if to dismiss the statement.  “I have waited centuries to complete this task.  A few more weeks is an insignificant moment in comparison.”  Then he cocked his head.  “However, I guarantee it will feel like an eternity to one Son of Asgard,” he added.</p><p>Thor flinched, as if he’d been physically assaulted by those words.  But it wasn’t the words; it was the realization of who the screams in the background of Thanos’s transmission belonged to.  He took a step forward without thinking about it, his entire body puffed up as much as possible.  Nearly any other being in the galaxy would have been intimidated by that posture.  Several of those in the room felt intimidated, and they weren’t even the target of the glare that came with it.</p><p>Thor opened his mouth to demand Thanos stop torturing his brother, then closed it.  It would have done no good.  Worse, it would have amused the monster on the other end of the conversation. </p><p>Instead he glared at the image on the screen with such intensity it was a shock that the monitor didn’t melt.  Every fiber of his being demanded he do something to stop Loki’s suffering.  If Thanos had been there he’d have thrown himself at him, heedless of any personal danger.</p><p>But, Thanos was not there, and in the end, there was nothing Thor could do for his brother.  What’s worse, it was clear Thanos was greatly enjoying how deeply this attack had cut into Thor.  He seemed to savor the other man’s feeling of powerlessness.</p><p>Which only infuriated the Asgardian even more.  Which only amused Thanos even more.  In the end, Thor did the only thing he could do.  He left.  He stomped to the other side of the room, well outside the pickup range of the camera they were using, and began to pace back and forth like a caged animal.  An uncomfortable silence followed in his wake.</p><p>Steve cleared his throat.  “Speaking of wasted,” he said.  “Isn’t torturing a prisoner just to manipulate his brother a bit self-defeating?”  He couldn’t say he felt very sorry for Loki.  The Asgardian Frost Giant Prince had made his own bed with Thanos.  He simply objected to the torture of anyone for any means.</p><p>Thanos grinned.  “It never hurts to remind your subjects who’s in charge,” he replied in mock defensiveness.</p><p>“I think it does,” Steve said.  “I think evil is doomed to fail.  It fails because, the worse it is, the more people it unites against itself.”</p><p>“Good and evil are mere constructs built by feeble minds looking for any way to excuse a lack of spine,” Thanos replied philosophically.</p><p>“Maybe, but they are very powerful constructs,” Steve said.  “Constructs that have smote others that felt that way.”</p><p>Thanos leaned closer to his camera’s pickup.  “We’ll see if you still think that in a month,” Thanos replied menacingly.  “When I get to Earth the final stone will be delivered unto me,” he said in a tone suggesting pure confidence in his predictions.  “And then, I will kill everyone you and your robotic knight ever cared about.  You will return to your planet to find only ruin and death,” he promised.  Then the feed went dark.</p><p>No one spoke.  Even Thor stopped pacing.  Tony and Steve went as rigid as Gamora and Nebula had earlier.  They couldn’t help but picture every person they cared about, every person whose head had just been put on the chopping block.  Many of them were in this very room.</p><p>“Alright, what was that all about?” Rocket asked, breaching the silence.</p><p>“He wanted us to feel helpless,” Gamora explained.  “He wanted us to see that we couldn’t stop him.”</p><p>Steve stirred.  “Which suggests that we worry him,” he stated.</p><p>“That’s ridiculous,” Nebula grated.</p><p>“It stands to reason,” Tony replied through that look of horror.  “Otherwise, why go through the effort to try and intimidate us?”</p><p>“Because he enjoys it,” Nebula stated bluntly.</p><p>Natasha gave half a head shake.  “It seemed like more than that,” she said.  “What if Clint rattled him?” she asked.</p><p>Nebula rolled her eyes.  “You haven’t the first clue of whom you speak of,” she stated.</p><p>“Perhaps,” Steve replied evenly “but that doesn’t mean she’s wrong.”</p><p>“When’s the last time anyone was able to breach his security and sabotage The Sanctuary Two?” Sam asked pointedly.</p><p>Gamora blinked at that question.  Now that he asked, she didn’t think she’d ever heard of such an event.  People had tried before of course.  None had ever gotten close to succeeding.  Several were now part of the family even now. </p><p>She glanced at Nebula for help but the blank expression on the Luphoid’s face said it all.  “I don’t think anyone ever has,” Gamora admitted slowly. </p><p>Natasha picked the narrative back up.  “So, Clint subverts his security, skulks around on board his ship for over two days, and then sabotages his main drive,” she said pointedly.  “I don’t know about you but that would worry me.”</p><p>“You think he’s worried Clint might have sabotaged other systems before destroying the drive?” Scott asked.</p><p>Natasha shrugged.  “That’s probably what prompted the call.”</p><p>“Wait, what?” Quill asked, a frown on his face.  “Back up.  A minute ago, you thought Thanos called because your buddy’s success at blowing himself up made him nervous.  Now you think he called because he thought Barton might have sabotaged other systems?  Which is it?”</p><p>“He called because he thought we sent Barton on his mission,” T’Challa said, breaking his habitual silence.  “He cannot conceive of anyone sacrificing themselves for another because he would never do so.  He knows about Agent Barton’s mission to sabotage his engines.  He wanted to know what other orders he might have carried out first.  I fear that he was able to read that there were none.”</p><p>“I’m sure that’s part of it,” Natasha said “but think about it; <em>one man</em> did all that,” she added, emphasizing those first two words.</p><p>Tony shook his head.  “Not one man,” he said, leaning forward “two.”  He glanced around the room, waiting for someone to catch his meaning, an intense look in his eyes.  For that single moment everything that had been hanging on him was pushed back behind the euphoria of having decrypted what Thanos had been trying not to tell them.</p><p>“Loki,” Thor said slowly, almost as if he was having trouble believing it himself.</p><p>“No way,” Banner said forcefully.  “That guy wouldn’t stick his neck out for anyone.”</p><p>“Normally I’d agree,” Tony replied.  “But he did.  Thanos said it himself.  He was ‘reminding him who was in charge’.  He wasn’t torturing Loki as a way of getting back at Thor for something Clint did.”</p><p>“He was using the fact that he was already punishing him to get under Thor’s skin,” Steve said.</p><p>“Yes, but that’s beside the point,” Tony said.  “Steve hit the nail square on the head when he was talking to him.  Two people that no one in their right mind would have ever expected to work together allied against him.  <em>That’s</em> what’s got him nervous.”  He glanced from face to face around the room.  Most seemed to get it, or at least be willing to entertain the notion.  Gamora seemed uncertain, and Nebula . . .</p><p>“You’re all insane,” she grated before stomping out the door.</p><p>“All things considered, if that’s sanity, I think I’d rather stay insane,” Scott said after she’d left.</p><p>Gamora cast a quick, but vehement glare his direction. “She may well be correct,” she said evenly.  “This could all be wishful thinking.”</p><p>“I think he’s right,” Steve said.  “It would explain a lot.”</p><p>“That’s because you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gamora snapped.  “Loki’s been part of the family for over two weeks now.  No one-” she started before Thor cut her off.</p><p>“Loki is <em>not</em> a part of Thanos’s family,” he said harshly.</p><p>“Yeah, because all his other children chose to be there,” Rocket replied pointedly.</p><p>“Mind what you say rodent,” Thor said threateningly.</p><p>“Do we really have time to argue about semantics here?” Tony asked, catching the Asgardian’s gaze with a look.</p><p>Thor paused for a second, visibly deflating.  “No, and I am sorry,” he rumbled, making sure to indicate both Gamora and Rocket with a dip of the head.</p><p>Gamora stopped, flustered.  Thor’s about face had caught her off guard.  She wasn’t sure how she’d expected him to react to Tony’s question, but backing down certainly wasn’t it.  No one in The Guardians would have capitulated that easily.  The shortest time between being proven wrong and admitting it was three days for any of them, and that had been Mantis.</p><p>“Um,” she started again, searching for her space.  “As I was about to say, the first thing Thanos does is break your will to resist.  Most don’t last three days.  I think Nebula took a full week.”</p><p>“What about you?” Quill asked curiously.</p><p>She glanced at him, wondering if this was the time and place for that particular personal reveal.  She decided it would take less time to just answer.  “He didn’t have to break me,” she said, an element of bitterness in her voice.  “I’m the only survivor of the Badoon’s attempts to exterminate the Zen-Whoberi,” she explained.  “Thanos found me in the rubble of my world.  He offered me the power to destroy them.”</p><p>“Did you?” Drax asked in innocent curiosity.</p><p>But Gamora had decided that she’d revealed enough for the day.  “As I was saying,” she continued “none of Thanos’s children could even imagine crossing him.  They imagine dying.  They imagine they’re stuck in a nightmare they might wake from.  They imagine going unnoticed for one day, but they certainly don’t draw the worst kind of attention to themselves,” she told them.</p><p>“Is it possible that others could even if you could not?” Thor asked, trying to be diplomatic for a change.</p><p>“You’re not listening; no one ever has,” Gamora said firmly.</p><p>“According to the records I’ve seen, no one’s ever been taken to join the family as an adult either,” Jarvis pointed out.</p><p>Gamora turned on him, but Quill beat her to the punch.  “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” he asked.</p><p>“Children tend to be more malleable, less stubborn, than adults,” he replied.</p><p>Which was completely irrelevant; Gamora knew that.  If anything, being more stubborn would only have accelerated Loki’s descent into insanity.  But she could also see that they wouldn’t listen to her.  They needed to believe Loki had kept his own mind.  And, perhaps it was best to just leave it at that for now.</p><p>So, instead of continuing along that dried up vein she turned to Steve and Tony.  “Alright assuming your correct, what does it mean for us?” she asked.</p><p>“It means we have learned three things,” Jarvis replied.  “One: Agent Barton was indeed successful in crippling the drive on The Sanctuary Two.  Two: It will take roughly a month for Thanos to get to Earth.  Three: his greatest concern revolves around our ability to work together.”</p><p>“Great, so we’ve learned that he’s angry, and he’s getting to Earth at the same time as us,” Quill replied acerbically.  “I feel so much better.”</p><p>“I meant what do we do now,” Gamora replied through gritted teeth.</p><p>“Get back to it,” Steve said, standing up.  “If teamwork is what he’s afraid of then that’s what we work on.”  Everyone else stood as well, taking his motion as an indication that the meeting was over.</p><p>“Finally,” Drax said, heading towards the exit closest to the coliseum.</p><p>“Thanks for the meeting guys,” Rocket said sarcastically as he hopped down from his chair.  “It’s really helped to cement the phobia of team chats I was working on,” he added, gaining a grin from several of the departing participants of same.</p><p>Steve shot a questioning glance at Tony.  The latter shrugged and said “Team meetings have a habit of going poorly.  They usually don’t impart any stellar news either.”</p><p>Steve thought for a moment.  “Maybe we’ll do a pot luck at some point,” he offered, earning a surprised grin from the engineer.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“One of the first things you learn in any martial art is how to fall,” Natasha said.  She, T’Challa, and Gamora were standing in the center of the ovular arena Friday had finished the day before.  The class, which consisted of everyone but Nebula, Tony, and Bruce, was spaced evenly about the perimeter.  Banner was still present, but watching from the raised stands occupying one of the long ends of the oval.  Even Barnes was there, even though Stark hadn’t finished his new arm.</p><p>“I don’t know about you guys, but no one had to teach me how to fall,” Quill quipped to the room at large.  “It was pretty much intuitive.”</p><p>“But did you intuit how to fall without hurting yourself?” Gamora asked, one eyebrow arched slightly.</p><p>Quill shrugged.  “I never got worse than a skinned knee, I don’t know about the rest of you,” he said defiantly.</p><p>“Perhaps you could-” T’Challa started before being cut off.</p><p>“Tony,” Natasha said, sounding surprised.  Everyone followed her gaze to one of the entrances flanking the stands.  The engineer was standing in the entrance itself, as if he hadn’t made up his mind on whether or not he wanted to come in.</p><p>He hadn’t shown up for his bout with Steve, but she hadn’t expected that.  Even if he had listened to her, it was going to take more than a couple of minutes for that about face.</p><p>“You’re late,” Gamora said sternly.</p><p>Tony gave a half shrug.  “I had to run down a problem with Sergeant Barnes’s prosthesis,” he offered.</p><p>T’Challa raised his voice to ensure all present could hear him.  “Martial Arts revolves around discipline,” he said, looking at Tony.  “Discipline requires the keeping of commitments.  When you show up late you not only miss training, but you interrupt the training of others.”</p><p>“Discipline also demands a respect for others and your impact on them,” Natasha continued.  “When you are late you disrespect student and teacher alike.  From here on everyone is expected to make the commitment to be here on time.”  No one responded.  “I mean everyone,” she continued, rotating on one foot to make eye contact with each person present.  “That includes instructors as well,” she added.</p><p>T’Challa took the hint.  “I commit myself to being here on time,” he said aloud to the entire room.</p><p>They both glanced to Gamora.  There was a moment’s hesitation before she too made that commitment.  The hesitation hadn’t been from an unwillingness to make the commitment, so much as a failure to understand the need.  Thanos’s children learned very quickly that being late simply was not an option.</p><p>Steve made the commitment next, a verbal contract that began to work its way around the room.  Tony’s was last.</p><p>“Then enter,” T’Challa said formally.</p><p>Tony stepped forward, somewhat uneasily.  He wasn’t sure why he’d come at all.  Now he was even less sure he wanted to stay.  It was all so rigid and formal.  He tended to chafe within such atmospheres.  Said atmospheres usually chaffed at his presence too.</p><p>“Gracious of you, seeing as I built the place,” he said sarcastically, as he reached the perimeter of the room.  He stayed with his back to the door, as if comforted by the proximity to an escape route. Steve leaned out of ranks enough to shoot Tony a glare.</p><p>“Technically, all you did was give the okay for your AI to build it,” Quill commented.</p><p> “Where were we?” Natasha asked, interrupting the byplay.</p><p>“I believe Gamora was about to demonstrate the value of falling practice to Quill,” Tony observed.</p><p>“Ah, yes, that was it,” Natasha replied, seemingly happy about the prospect.  “Gamora?” she then asked.</p><p>“Peter?” Gamora asked.  Now it was the space rogue’s turn to look uneasy.  He glanced quickly around the room, as if searching for an inspiring reason to avoid being Gamora’s practice dummy.  When none was forthcoming, he stepped hesitantly to the center of the room.</p><p>“Okay, just don’t-” he started before the green woman grabbed him by the front of his jacket and hurled him across the room.  He hit the ground in an uncontrolled tumble that ended abruptly as he slammed into the wall between Drax and Mantis.  At the last second, he tried to catch himself against the vertical surface, earning a jammed shoulder for his trouble.</p><p>“Ahhg,” he groaned as he got back to his feet, flapping the stunned appendage around like a drunken bird. </p><p>“If I’d thrown you harder, you’d have broken at least one bone,” Gamora stated warningly. </p><p>“What exactly is the point of all this?” he demanded, clearly irritated.  “I mean, how much can we possibly learn in a month?”</p><p>“I don’t know about you, but I plan to get at least an orange belt,” Steve called out, earning a stiff laugh from those raised on Earth.</p><p>“You’ve got some catch-up to do,” Lang commented with a smug grin.</p><p>“Belts?” Gamora asked, brow furrowed in confusion.</p><p>“They are a western adaptation of eastern fighting styles on Earth,” Jarvis explained from his position.  “They help indicate how far a student has advanced in their chosen form.”</p><p>Gamora’s eyes narrowed.  “Sounds like a waste of time,” she commented.</p><p>“Oh, it is,” Natasha said.  “That’s part of the reason we’re not doing it.”</p><p>“What?  Why not?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Our goal is not to train you to be masters in our various fighting disciplines,” T’Challa explained.  “As Mr. Quill has pointed out, there simply is not time for that.”</p><p>“Then what exactly are you trying to train us to do?” Lang asked, partly in curiosity, partly in disappointment.</p><p>“This,” Gamora said before turning to Natasha.  In one fluid motion she grabbed the pale redhead’s belt with her right hand and the top of her leather jumpsuit with the left and hurled her in the same fashion as she had Quill just a moment before.</p><p>But, instead of tumbling to an uncontrolled stop against a convenient wall, Natasha righted herself in the air.  She landed on both feet, rolling once.  Mid-roll she pushed off the ground with her shoulder, using the added height and rotation to roll along the axis perpendicular to her movement.  She landed again on her feet, leaning forward.  But now she was staring the way she’d come and sliding to a controlled stop.</p><p>Everyone was impressed.</p><p>After a moment’s silence Tony cleared his throat.  “Not to belittle Agent Romanov’s feats of acrobatics,” he began “but I doubt even the slowest of us will take a month to learn that.”</p><p>“I should hope not,” Gamora retorted while Natasha walked back to the center of the room.</p><p>“What you have just witnessed is more than simply an impressive display of tumbling,” T’Challa explained.  “It is a microcosm for our goals here.  As opposed to training you in any particular style we hope to teach you the core that stands at the center of all martial arts: economy of motion, how to strike, and how to take a hit.  As well, our goal is to train you to analyze your opponent’s fighting styles; to try and anticipate their actions, and how to compensate when you fail to do so.</p><p>“After the first week we’ll divide the class into three dojos,” Natasha said, taking over the course syllabus.  “You will train with your dojo and spar with members of the other two.  Every week you’ll swap dojos.  As you go, we hope you will add pieces of each art to your own fighting style.  Again, our goal is not for you to master any style, but to become used to confronting unknown styles and adapting to them.”</p><p>“Any more questions?” Gamora asked tersely.  It was clear that she felt there shouldn’t be any questions at all.  Their job was to learn, not question.  But the other two seemed to be taking this interrogation in stride, as if things worked differently on Earth.</p><p>“Just one,” Rocket said, raising his hand.  “Whose clambake idea was this?”</p><p>“That’s half-baked idea,” Quill put in.  “In this case it seems more unbaked to me.”</p><p>“It was my idea,” T’Challa said, somehow short circuiting any other complaints.  “But Gamora and Ms. Romanov helped to refine the approach,” he added.</p><p>“Figures,” Quill muttered.</p><p>“Alright, that’s enough for the Q and A,” Natasha said, catching the meaning behind Gamora’s tone.  “Let’s get to it.”</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>Day 4</p><p> </p><p>“What was so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?” Gamora demanded testily as she entered the bridge.  Stark had the watch that night, which explained his presence.  Rogers, and T’Challa did not.</p><p>The other three present glanced awkwardly at each other.  “We may have a problem,” Steve said eventually.</p><p>“We have a lot of problems,” she replied evenly.  “To which are you referring.”</p><p>“Specifically, we’re concerned about your boyfriend,” Tony said bluntly.  It was, after all, the only mode of communication available to him.</p><p>“He’s not my boyfriend,” she snapped automatically.</p><p>“Whatever your current relationship status,” T’Challa replied “his behavior has become a cause for alarm.”</p><p>“Alarm?” she asked in a surprised (and perhaps slightly amused) tone.</p><p>“As in danger,” Tony supplied.</p><p>“I know what alarm means, thank you,” Gamora replied tartly.  “I fail to see why any of you would be alarmed by Quill.”</p><p>“Primarily because we’re not sure whose side he’s on,” Tony replied in kind.</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gamora demanded, all vestiges of sleepiness evaporating like water in an airlock.</p><p>Steve stepped forward, sparing a quick reproving look for Tony.  “The more we’ve seen of him the more we’ve had to ask if he wasn’t deliberately trying to sabotage our common goal,” he said softly.</p><p>“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Gamora declared, turning back the way she’d been led.</p><p>“He argues against every suggestion intended to advance that goal,” Tony said to her retreating back.  “He cooperates as grudgingly as possible with any decisions made by the group.  He’s overly critical of anyone from Earth, while refusing to criticize anyone from The Guardians.”</p><p>  “We know you’ve seen it too,” Steve added.  “We’ve watched you try to reign him in for half a week now.”</p><p>Gamora’s advance to the rear paused at that.  She couldn’t deny that Quill had been even more annoying than usual of late.  She couldn’t deny that he’d placed her in the role of peacekeeper.  But she couldn’t accept that he might be working for Thanos.  Not Quill. </p><p>But nor could she deny it.</p><p>T’Challa spoke up, capitulating on the doubt her pause engendered.  “There is a chasm, a mile wide, standing between those of us from Earth and those of us from the galaxy,” he said.  “And dead center of that Chasm is your . . . co-leader.”</p><p>Gamora whipped around, glaring back at the assembled group.  She opened her mouth to refute their allegations, but before she could get the first syllable out something occurred to her.  Something that drained the color from her face.</p><p>“Ebony Maw,” she said quietly.</p><p>The other three presented confused looks.  “Come again?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Ebony Maw,” she repeated.  “He has this way of . . .  making you think what he wants you to think, I guess.  It’s like, when you hear his voice in your head, it sounds almost like your voice.  He can make you believe almost anything.”</p><p>“I remember the dossier,” Steve said.  “What does he have to do with Quill’s behavior?”</p><p>“He was on our ship with us for over a week, pretending to be an old man,” Gamora said earnestly.  “That’s more than enough time to have converted Peter.”</p><p>Steve was the first to respond.  “So, you’re saying that Quill may have been working as a spy for Thanos since before we met him?”</p><p>Gamora shrugged.  “Possibly,” she said, as noncommittally as possible.</p><p>Steve and T’Challa traded glances.  “We can’t let him roam free,” Steve said.</p><p>“We can restrain him in his quarters,” T’Challa suggested.</p><p>“Wait,” Tony cut in, “before we start breaking out the bondage equipment, I have a few questions about this hypothesis.”  He turned to Gamora.  “You’re saying you had Thanos’s silver tongue on your ship for a week?” he asked.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“And not one of you felt that might be some information you should have passed on?”</p><p>Gamora gave an embarrassed look.  “It just never came up,” she said with a shrug.</p><p>“What if it’s not just Quill?” Steve asked.  “According to the dossier he could have converted all of them.”</p><p>“And you think Maw brainwashed Quill to sabotage our team up?” Tony asked, ignoring Steve’s remark. </p><p>Gamora shrugged, arms crossed in front of her.  “It’s possible,” she said.</p><p>“This being a team up that didn’t even happen for another week, and only occurred out of random chance?” Tony asked pointedly.</p><p>Her eyes narrowed.  “They’re not robots,” she said.  “He doesn’t program them to do a specific task.  He wins them over to his side.  They truly believe in his goals.”</p><p>Tony made a face while he considered that.  Then he shook his head.  “No, it still doesn’t work.  He showed absolutely no indication that he was in Thanos’s pocket during our last encounter.”</p><p>“How sure are you of that Tony?” Steve asked.  “I mean, no offence, but you aren’t exactly known for being able to read people.”</p><p>“Friday?” Tony asked amiably.</p><p>The computer’s voice came over the intercom instantly.  “After reviewing all surviving data regarding the confrontation in question, there is a ninety-eight point three percent chance that the subject is honestly working against the understood purposes of Thanos,” she reported.  “This evaluation has a margin of error of plus or minus point three percent.”</p><p>“And yet, all of his actions since that fight seem to work in Thanos’s favor,” T’Challa observed.</p><p>“Is it possible Ebony Maw, or someone else with similar abilities, could have gotten on board the ship?” Steve asked.</p><p>Tony shook his head.  “We perform random scans of the ship at least four times a day.  It’s highly unlikely a stowaway could have gone this long undetected.”</p><p>“What if they were masked to look like one of us?” Gamora asked, remembering the holographic mask Maw had utilized to fool them.</p><p>“We’d still have read too many signatures,” Tony replied with a slight shrug.</p><p>“Okay so we don’t have a stowaway on board,” Steve conceded.  “We still have a threat to the mission aboard.  We have to ascertain its nature and neutralize it.”</p><p>“I assume you have some plan to go along with those lofty goals?” Tony asked.  Steve did not reply.</p><p>“I’ll get to the truth,” T’Challa stated firmly.  Tony and Steve traded a glance.</p><p>“How?” Tony asked.</p><p>“I will gain his measure,” T’Challa replied, managing to answer their question without actually answering it.  “You have a scheduled fight with him tomorrow, yes?” he asked Steve before anyone could point that out.</p><p>“At thirteen hundred,” Steve said, unsure of the relation between the two.</p><p>“Go hard on him,” T’Challa ordered, a tone of voice he’d rarely used since joining this merry band.</p><p>“Why?” Steve asked.  He objected to hurting people just to hurt them on principle, and this sounded an awful lot like that.</p><p>“Angry people make poor liars,” T’Challa said, heading for the exit.  “It’s why Mr. Stark is so bad at it,” he added before turning down the corridor.</p><p>“Well, I guess we’re dismissed,” Tony said.</p><p>“I really want to thank you guys for all the sleep I’m about to not get,” Gamora said darkly before turning back the way she’d come.</p><p>“Does everyone on this ship have to complain about something?” Steve asked Tony.</p><p>“Apparently so,” Tony replied pointedly, a slight smile taking the bite out of that comment.  Steve laughed out loud as he got Tony’s point: that he’d been complaining about all the complaining.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Nebula found Gamora working out in the main gym.  Being a rich man’s pleasure yacht, it was completely outfitted.  There were gravity weights, electronic machines, geared machines, and even a zero G arena.  They were all pretty sure what the Grandmaster had used that last for.  Needless to say, it hadn’t been used on this trip.</p><p>As the two-tone woman walked in Gamora was using the most basic of exercise machines: the pullup bar.  Nebula watched her sister effortlessly pulling herself up and down in steady repetition. </p><p>Gamora knew Nebula was there, but she wasn’t in the mood for her sister’s callous views on life.  As promised, she’d failed to get any more sleep after the impromptu counsel of war she’d been summoned to.  She couldn’t help but worry about Peter.  The more she thought about it the more she feared he’d been twisted against them by Maw.  Some people never broke free of his influence after he’d finished with them.</p><p>“You’re worried about Quill,” Nebula stated.  Gamora nearly slipped off of one of the handholds she was gripping.</p><p>“What do you mean?” She asked warily, wondering if Nebula had overheard their conversation. </p><p>“He has become uncertain with himself,” Nebula stated.</p><p>“Uncertain with himself?” Gamora asked.  “What the hell does that even mean?”</p><p>“He’s <em>your</em> boyfriend,” Nebula said pointedly.</p><p>Gamora rolled her eyes and dropped down from the bars to confront her sister.  “What is it with you people?” she demanded incredulously.  “We are not in a relationship.”</p><p>Nebula watched her for a moment, as if gauging her sincerity.  She understood Gamora’s need to pretend she hadn’t formed an emotional attachment with Quill.  Such things were only weaknesses to be exploited.</p><p>In the end she decided to let the lie lay.  “Be that as it may, you know him far better than I,” she said instead.  Gamora breathed in ever so slightly more than she had been.  Anyone else would have missed the reaction to her words.  But Nebula was not anyone else.  With her enhanced sensory systems, the change was all but highlighted with neon lights.</p><p>“You know something,” she stated firmly, taking a step towards Gamora.  Gamora glanced away, looking for some excuse, some lie she could offer.  She knew it was a hopeless effort, at best a weak stall tactic.  She may have bested Nebula in the ring all throughout their childhood, but when it came to deception, she’d never been able to outwit the other woman. </p><p>Gamora’s shoulder’s slumped ever so slightly.  “We think Ebony Maw may have converted him when he was on our ship,” she admitted, not quite looking at Nebula.</p><p>The two-tone woman stared at Gamora until the object of her scrutiny looked back at her.  “I’ll kill him,” she said finally.  There was no malice, no anger, in that voice, just a simple declaration.  She turned to leave, intent on carrying out that corrective action immediately.</p><p>“Nebula wait,” Gamora called out, jogging to catch up.  The Luphoid stopped, but did not turn around.  Gamora stopped a meter from her sister.</p><p>“You plead for his life?” Nebula asked, both exhilarated at the omission of power she intrinsic to that act and disappointment that her sister could have fallen into such a state.  It was as if she’d forgotten everything she’d been taught her entire life.</p><p>“You can’t just kill him,” Gamora insisted.  “We don’t even know if he’s been turned.”</p><p>“He is a threat.”</p><p>“We don’t know that yet,” Gamora insisted.</p><p>“Will we ever know?” Nebula demanded.</p><p>“T’Challa is going to question him today.  Hopefully he’ll be able to find out what’s going on.”</p><p>“If he is working for Thanos he is a danger to us all,” Nebula stated.</p><p>“It’s not his fault,” Gamora said, failing to keep the pleading tone completely out of her voice.</p><p>Nebula turned on her.  “What’s happened to you?” she demanded, a look of utter disappointment on her face.  “You used to be strong.  Now look at you; you plead for his life like the waifs we used to exterminate.”  Gamora didn’t respond.</p><p>Nebula waited a few more seconds, then turned to leave.  She should kill Quill.  Even if Ebony hadn’t twisted his mind, she should kill him.  He was both distraction and weakness.  She should kill him.</p><p>“You’re right,” Gamora conceded as she reached the threshold.  Nebula stopped again, as if unsure if she’d heard Gamora correctly.  “I do care about him,” Gamora said, stepping up to Gamora.  “I don’t want to see him hurt.  I won’t let you kill him.”</p><p>Nebula turned back around.  “Do you see what your feelings have done to you?” she asked.  “They keep you from doing what must be done.  They slow your hand, make you weak.”</p><p>“Yes,” Gamora replied.  “But they can also be a source of strength.  They push us to attempt the impossible.  They make us part of a greater whole.”</p><p>“You’re insane,” Nebula stated as bluntly as a drop hammer to the face.</p><p>“Hasn’t there ever been someone, one person that you cared about?  That you would risk your life for?” Gamora asked softly. </p><p>In response Nebula stared at Gamora with that death cold expression.  She opened her mouth to say it, to say the thing she’d wanted to say for so long.  But she couldn’t.  Instead she closed her mouth, turned, and left.</p><p>“Nebula?” Gamora called after her.  There was no response.  Gamora knew better than to chase her.  She was less sure of whether or not Nebula would carry through with her threats.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>Day 5</p><p> </p><p>Quill emerged from the dispensary door still rubbing his chest where Rogers’s shield had impacted him.  Despite the ministrations of the various automated systems it was still a bit sore. </p><p>“Rough session?” T’Challa asked from where he was leaning against the bulkhead.  Quill’s head snapped to the right as his eyes took in T’Challa’s stance.  Some people could pull off studied nonchalance, like they just happened to have stopped at that particular wall to think.  Like it was just a coincidence, him slouching against the wall just as Quill emerged.</p><p>T’Challa was not one of those people.  It was obvious he was there for a reason.  He wanted something.  Obviously, he wanted something from Quill.  And Quill wasn’t in the mood.</p><p>Of all the Earthers, the king was definitely Quill’s favorite, but that wasn’t saying much.  Between the sulky Russian, the even more sulky inventor, the spy, the psychotic soldier, the annoying soldier, the crazy soldier, the mouth, and the mini-Thanos there wasn’t much competition for the spot.  Oh, and let’s not forget the guy everyone was afraid to piss off.  They were all a bunch of backwater wannabes as far as he was concerned.  And he really didn’t want to talk to any of them at the moment.</p><p>“Are there good sessions?” he asked pointedly before turning towards the opposite end of the corridor, hoping T’Challa would take the hint, knowing somehow that it wouldn’t.</p><p>His pessimism was quickly rewarded.  “You do not think much of the current training regimen,” T’Challa observed, moving to walk with Quill.</p><p>“What the redneck tests of strength?” Quill replied sarcastically.  “Who wouldn’t get excited at the prospect of pummeling their allies every day for a month?  The same allies, as it turns out, that he’ll be needing at the end of that month.”</p><p>“Are you still injured?” T’Challa asked, sounding slightly alarmed.</p><p>“That’s not the point!” Quill growled, pivoting angrily to face T’Challa.  “We’re supposed to be on the same team, not acting like . . .”</p><p>“Ravagers?” T’Challa asked.  He’d spent most of the morning looking up everything he could about Quill.  He knew the man standing across from him had been kidnapped and raised by the ravagers, a loose band of mercenaries with varying cultures.  He’d learned from Gamora how they’d taught him to fight.  Apparently, it was a sore spot.</p><p>Quill shot T’Challa a surprised look, wondering how the other man knew about that.  “Yeah,” he admitted finally.</p><p>“And ravagers are . . . bad?” T’Challa asked</p><p>“Ravagers are a wolf pack,” Quill said bluntly.  “They only work together at all because one guy can’t take down anything worthwhile.  Of course, that doesn’t mean one of them won’t stab you in the back first chance he gets.  You learn to sleep with one eye open and your hand on a blaster around them.” </p><p>“I see,” T’Challa said calmly.  “And, since the Ravagers are bad, anything they do is?” T’Challa asked pointedly.</p><p>“No, but creating an environment of competition between people who are supposed to be on the same team only leads to distrust and eventually deceit.  I know, I’ve lived it.  Not that anyone listened when I tried to say as much,” he added bitterly.  “They just went on with this insane ‘training’ like I wasn’t even there.  I’m not sure why they even consult me on anything,” he muttered glancing to the side as if something had caught his interest.</p><p>T’Challa stood there as the tumblers to this particular puzzle all fell into place.  They’d been so worried that Quill had become suborned that it had blinded them to an obvious answer.  Quill’s statement made it clear; he wasn’t working at cross purposes to the group.   Well, he was, but not intentionally.  But it wasn’t the training regimen, or any fear of turning the ship into pirates, that was bothering him.  He was worried he was losing his place as leader of the Guardians.  Being the far smaller group, it made a paranoid kind of sense to expect them to be absorbed into the larger group.  It certainly made enough sense for fear to start dictating his reactions.</p><p>In that light all of Quill’s actions since they’d met took on a far less sinister role.  His arguments against those from Earths’ ideas had never been that convincing to T’Challa, but until this moment the king had been unable to figure out what was going on in the space rogue’s head.  Now he knew.  But he was fairly certain Quill was unaware of his own motivations.  People never like to admit they’re giving counsel to their fears, even to themselves. </p><p>Most of the time it wasn’t even worth trying to get them to see what was really going on in their heads.  T’Challa made no pretenses at being a psychiatrist, nor did he have any interest in becoming one.  Better to just let them work it out on their own.</p><p>Unfortunately, he didn’t have that luxury in this case.  They had but one month to meld this array of groups and subgroups into a cohesive team, and at the moment Quill was standing dead center of that effort.</p><p>The only question was, how was he to get Quill to see it?</p><p>“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go watch Gamora pound Wade’s face in,” Quill said, turning back the way he’d been going.  T’Challa redoubled his efforts to find an avenue of attack, a dialogue that might get Quill to see what was really going on.  But all he could think of was the direct approach. </p><p>He shrugged.  Very well, if that was all he had.</p><p>“How long have you been leader of The Guardians?” T’Challa called out just before Quill could make it to the next turn.  Quill stopped.  He twisted around, presenting an interrogative expression.</p><p>“What does that have to do with anything?” he demanded.</p><p>“How long?” T’Challa repeated evenly.</p><p>Turned back around.  “Oh, here it comes,” he said stomping back to T’Challa.  “I knew it wouldn’t be long before one of you started insisting I step down.  Well you listen to me,” Quill continued pushing a finger into T’Challa’s chest “they may be small, but that’s my team.  If you think I’m going to put their safety in any of your hands your insane.  I’m the only one I trust to take care of them.”</p><p>“Strange,” T’Challa commented “you seemed more a family than a team to me.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Quill demanded, unnecessarily defensive.</p><p>“I mean there is a trust that flows through your group.  You say what you mean.  You tell it how it is.  You argue enough for three rival clans,” he added with a warm grin, thinking of home.  “But when threatened from the outside you pull together, back to back.  Deep down you know you can trust each other implicitly.  To be honest, The Avengers could use to learn some of that from you,” he added with a half shrug.</p><p>Quill blinked, clearly having trouble downshifting from alert status.  “Wait, are you saying you want me to be in charge?”</p><p>“Why does one person have to be in charge?” T’Challa asked pointedly.</p><p>Quill shrugged.  “I don’t know, it just seemed like where you were going,” he said.  “Hey, I don’t want to be in charge of those nutcases anyways,” he added.  “They’re crazy.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t go that far,” T’Challa said.  “It wouldn’t hurt your family to learn a little of their professionalism.”</p><p>“So, you want us to learn from each other?” Quill asked suspiciously.</p><p>“That is the point of all of this,” T’Challa said.  “But before we can learn from each other we have to respect one another.  Personal bouts are a great way for strangers to gain that respect.  Unfortunately, that’s a condition very difficult to attain when the leaders of the various groups are constantly at each other’s throats,” he finished pointedly.</p><p>“Play nice, in other words,” Quill summed up wryly.</p><p>“In simplest terms,” T’Challa agreed.</p><p>“See, why couldn’t you have just said that?” Quill asked ironically.</p><p>T’Challa shrugged.  “And have you miss out on my fine oratory skills?” he asked with a slight grin.  Quill grinned back.  The grin didn’t last. As it faded, he shook his head.</p><p>“This can’t work.  You have to see that.  Look, I’m all for working together, but this competitive training thing they’re pushing is only going to split us up.”</p><p>T’Challa paused for a moment.  “Back in my country a king may be challenged on the day of his ascension.”</p><p>“Challenged?” Quill asked in spite of himself.</p><p>“A ritual combat that ends when one of the combatants yields or is killed.”</p><p>“That’s barbaric,” Quill said, caught off guard.  Of all the people from Earth he’d felt certain that T’Challa would be most likely to behave in a civilized manner.  “And I thought the Ravagers were bad,” he added, turning again to go.</p><p>T’Challa ignored it.  “There was one challenge on my ascension day,” T’Challa said, causing Quill to stop.  Peter turned back to him, a question on his face.  “A man named M’Baku,” T’Challa told him, a slight smile at the thought of that bear of a man crossing his face.</p><p>“And you killed him?” Quill asked, aghast.  T’Challa had quickly gone from civilized to another Thanos in his mind.</p><p>“No,” T’Challa replied.  “I got him to yield.  He is currently second in command of my country.”</p><p>“Wait, so you put the guy that challenged you for your throne within one step of it?” Quill asked.  T’Challa nodded.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you came home to a few changes,” he added sarcastically.</p><p>“That won’t happen,” T’Challa said certainly.</p><p>“How can you be sure?”</p><p>“Because, after M’Baku’s challenge, he saved my life, protected my family, and helped me stop a madman from launching my country on a campaign of conquest that would have destroyed the world.”</p><p>“Why did he help you?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Because I earned his respect,” T’Challa stated.</p><p>“Because you beat him,” Quill asserted.</p><p>“No, because I fought with honor.”</p><p>“With honor, huh,” Quill said, clearly unconvinced.  “In my experience, such contests rarely have much honor involved.  I’ll bet Gamora and Nebula would say the same.”</p><p>“So, what you are seeing is that any tool can be used for good or evil,” T’Challa replied.  “You carry blasters around,” he said, indicating the weapons strapped to Quill’s thighs.  “Do you do evil with them?”</p><p>“No, I stop evil with them,” Quill said, just a tinge of pride coloring his voice.</p><p>“But they could be used for evil,” T’Challa replied.</p><p>“Yeah,” Quill admitted.</p><p>“So too is it with training.  Like your blasters, it is quality of those that use it that determines how it is used, not the tool itself.”</p><p>Quill thought about that.  Then he shook his head.  “I don’t know, it still feels wrong,” he said, though now not as sure as before.</p><p>“Perhaps,” T’Challa conceded.  “But allow me to ask you this one thing more: is there another way for us to learn to work together, here and now?”</p><p>“No,” Quill said, making his own concession.  “But just because I can’t think of a better way doesn’t mean this won’t fail.”</p><p>“It will certainly fail if you don’t support it,” T’Challa replied.  “Right now, we have four people trying to push a truck up a steep incline.  One is in the driver’s seat, steering.  And one is pushing against the first two.  Which do you think you are?”</p><p>Peter paused for a moment, then nodded.  “Fine, I’ll try,” he said before turning, again, to walk down the hall.</p><p>“Mr. Quill,” T’Challa said softly, causing Quill to stop once more.  “I must ask you, would you have been as opposed to this training system if Gamora had suggested it?”</p><p>Peter twisted around, clearly ready to reject the implications of that question.  But that rejection remained unsaid.  Instead his eyes seemed to go far away as he considered, almost against his will, that question.  Then his eyes refocused on T’Challa.  Without a word he continued his march down the corridor.</p><p>Half way through the first intersection he jumped as if startled.  “Jesus Christ,” he protested.  “What is this; ship wide lurking day?” he demanded as he started walking again.  “Don’t you people have anything better to do than skulk against the bulkheads?  Go paint your nails or whatever it is you do with your time.”  He continued like that until his voice faded from hearing.</p><p>Nebula stepped around the corner he’d jumped at and approached T’Challa.  Gamora stepped into the hallway from the other side.  A moment later they were joined by Steve and Tony from down the corridor.</p><p>“What’s she doing here?” Tony asked, gesturing to Nebula.</p><p>Nebula ignored him.  “Do you really think his behavior is just a result of childish insecurity?” she asked, clearly unconvinced.</p><p>“I believe so,” T’Challa replied.  “It certainly makes more sense of his actions to date.”</p><p>“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Steve said.</p><p>“Gamora?” Tony asked.  “You know him best.”</p><p>She shrugged.  “He hasn’t said anything to me about it,” she said.  “But it’s definitely possible.”</p><p>“What do you see in him?” Nebula asked Gamora in a clear tone of disappointment.</p><p>“And on that note,” Tony said quickly before Gamora could take that bait “I suggest we adjourn this court of inquiry.</p><p>“Agreed,” Steve said.  “It seems as if we could all use a nap.”  They all dispersed just as quickly as they’d come.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. On Harmony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Statesman</p><p>Machine Shop</p><p>Day 9</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t run the power line through a bank like that!” Rocket barked.  “You’ll burn out the emitter.”  He, the barkee, and Parker were crowded around a large workbench, trying to repair/modify the team’s various pieces of gear.</p><p>As opposed to the plush nature of the majority of the ship, the machine shop was more utilitarian.  The walls and floor were composed of scratched and scuffed bluish metal.  The equipment and tools were worn, yet well maintained.  And there was a distinct lack of the ornamentation that filled the halls and rooms of the rest of the ship.</p><p>“Assuming I didn’t rebuild the emitter while I was at it,” Tony replied pointedly.  Before Rocket could reply, he pointed the gun at the test target and fired.  There was a momentary crackling sound before its end exploded.  Tony flinched instinctively away from the blast, then tilted the gun up to examine the damage.</p><p> “I’m sure Quill is just going to be thrilled with your upgrades,” Rocket said laconically. </p><p>“I don’t understand,” Peter said from where he was working on the other gun. “That should have worked.”</p><p>“I told you it couldn’t handle that much current.  You fractured the crystal focusing array,” Rocket explained.</p><p>“What crystals?” Tony demanded, shifting his attention from the failed gun to the rodent.</p><p>“The set of tiny interlocking crystals that collimate the pulses,” Rocket replied.  “By the way, they aren’t easily replaced: certainly, no markets in our flight path,” he muttered as he returned to his own work.</p><p>“The crystals weren’t in the appropriate place to collimate anything,” Tony protested, brows furrowed.</p><p>“The crystals react to the high energy pulse by forming a lattice of interconnecting fields.”</p><p>“I’ve never heard of a crystal acting in that fashion,” Tony replied, clearly having trouble swallowing a whole meal’s worth of crow.</p><p>“Which is why I told you to leave this to me,” Rocket replied pointedly.  “Go build something more in your tech set, like a set of clubs or something.” </p><p>Tony turned an indignant eye on Rocket.  It was becoming painfully clear that jumping several hundred years ahead technologically wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought.  That said, there was no way he was going to pass up the chance to tinker with such advanced technology. </p><p>That didn’t stop his wounded pride from urging just that.  It had been decades since he hadn’t been able to automatically grasp the concept behind any device.  In short, he was out of practice admitting he wasn’t perfect.  Widow’s comments of several days ago returned to him unbidden.</p><p>“Wait,” Peter put in “what about electromagnets?”</p><p>“What?” Rocket asked, as if they’d just suggested replacing the array with glass beads.</p><p>“Collimate the beam electromagnetically?” Tony asked, mind already jumping ahead to the possibilities.</p><p>“Sure,” Peter said taking control of Tony’s mobile holographic design mat.  “Look, we run another branch here,” he said, expanding the circuit diagram.  “Coat the exterior of the barrel in a good core material.  Run that current through an electromagnetic coil outside of the inner barrel, and back to the power source.  We’ll have to put a small resistor here,” he added as a new component added itself to the third line “but we should lose very little power.  If we calculate the overall coil length correctly the electromagnetic field will travel down the barrel with the charge.”</p><p>“You want to collimate a plasma burst with electromagnets?” Rocket asked, as if just being sure he was hearing them correctly.</p><p>“It’s basically how we make lasers now,” Peter offered.</p><p>Rocket stared from one to the other.  “Lasers?!” he asked incredulously.  “What’s next; blow guns?”</p><p>“I’m thinking up an improved spit wad thrower right now,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Do you aborigines have any idea how much charged plasma your talking about?” he asked.</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “A converging electromagnetic field should be able to handle it.  We may have to increase the voltage at the power source slightly.”  Rocket subsided.  He really wasn’t sure it wouldn’t work.  He hadn’t dealt with electromagnets for anything more than docking clamps, and those were quickly switching over to gravity clamps.  No one used electromagnets for anything more than a kid’s science project.</p><p>“Run two smaller power sources in series?” Peter asked.</p><p>“You’ll drain the power supplies faster,” Rocket warned.</p><p>“Shouldn’t be hard to set the batteries up like an interchangeable magazine,” Tony countered.</p><p> “The big problem is going to be weight,” Peter said.</p><p>“Weight?” Rocket asked confused.  “Wait, why?”  They both frowned at him for a moment as their brains parsed the different forms of ‘weight’ in use.</p><p>“Electromagnets aren’t exactly known for being light,” Tony said.</p><p>Now it was Rocket’s turn to frown.  “How exactly do you make electromagnetic fields.”</p><p>“By winding a conductive material around a laminated conductive core material and applying charge,” Peter said. </p><p>Rocket rolled his eyes.  “I’m dealing with savages,” he said, stalking over to one of the benches lining the room.  He extracted a small disk about the size of a watch battery and came back to them.  “This is an EM clamp,” he said, turning the disk so one flat end was facing upwards.  He then pushed the small button on the side.  The ‘clamp’ snapped upwards, attaching itself to the ceiling of the workshop.  All three of their heads followed it upwards.</p><p>“It’s used primarily by wood furniture makers when they want to glue to components together.  The electromagnetic field it generates doesn’t affect the glue like a more commonly used gravity clamp would,” he added.</p><p>“How does it work?” Tony asked.</p><p>“It’s an effect of controlled layering of a composite material,” Rocket explained.  “When the appropriate molecules are placed in a specific matrix it allows for an unbalanced expansion of the electromagnetic field.”</p><p>“Two questions,” Tony replied.  “How heavy is it, and how much do we have on hand.”</p><p>“Most of the weight is in the power source,” Rocket told them.  “And I can make it if necessary.”</p><p>“Friday?” Tony asked.</p><p>“I’ve scanned the Extra-Net,” the AI replied.  “Building a fabricator should be fairly straight forward.  The materials used are also available, although creating enough for everyone trained in handguns will deplete our remaining store of lightweight high strength metals.”</p><p>“Could we disassemble the excess suits?” Tony asked.</p><p>“That estimate was including cannibalization of all remaining suits but yours,” Friday replied.</p><p> “Do we know of anything else that might require those materials?” Tony asked.</p><p>“None, unless you want to build melee weapons,” Friday replied.</p><p>“I’d say ranged weapons should take precedence,” Rocket offered.</p><p>“Well, that should make the pistol users happy,” Tony said.</p><p>“Shouldn’t we keep a couple of the suits?” Peter asked. </p><p>Tony shrugged.  “It’s not like anyone else was going to use them anyway,” he said wryly. </p><p>“Honestly, I’m not sure I want to use one,” Friday replied.  “That EMP hurt.”</p><p>“What about using the containers themselves?” Peter asked.</p><p>Tony shook his head.  “You saw what was left of the hardened steel pins Nebula was using,” Tony said.  “Steel just isn’t strong enough.”</p><p>“We could use the remaining high tensile metal to dope it,” Rocket said doubtfully.  While it would certainly help, he’d already worked out just how much of Tony’s stockpile of high strength material would be left.  There just wasn’t enough to reach the desired strength.  But it was the best he could come up with.  And Gamora had threatened to shave him if he didn’t at least try to play nice.</p><p>“Alright let’s go over the ship again.  Maybe there’s some system we can cannibalize,” Tony said.</p><p>“I’ve already done that, Boss,” Friday replied.  “There just isn’t any.  Unless you’re keen on compromising structural integrity.”</p><p>“Come one, there’s got to be some internal pressure doors we can use,” Tony said.</p><p>“I suppose.  It’s not like I need atmosphere,” Friday said.</p><p>“Yeah but I do,” Rocket replied forcefully.</p><p>“Did the people that built you remove your spine?” Tony asked.</p><p>“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Rocket growled.  Tony shifted uncomfortably.  “They replaced it with a high-density alloy so my body could support more implants.”</p><p>Apologizing wasn’t exactly Tony’s forte.  “I’m sorry,” he said eventually “but what are the odds that we’ll experience a hull breach in the next three weeks?”</p><p>“With force attenuators that are just barely limping along?” Rocket asked pointedly.</p><p>Tony winced slightly.  He should have thought of that himself.  “Alright, but we have to figure something out.  What about this layered composite technique you were talking about?”</p><p>Rocket paused for a moment, considering the possibility.  Then he shook his head.  “I doubt it would provide much additional strength.  It was designed to allow the creation of shaped electromagnetic fields.”</p><p>“Could you at least try to come up with a solution?” Tony asked in irritation.</p><p>In the back and forth Tony and Rocket had failed to notice Parker’s withdrawal from the conversation.  He’d taken to staring at the corner of the room, a thoughtful, far off look in his eyes.  Tony’s irritated tone finally brought him back to the present.</p><p>“What about that?” he asked, pointing to the shiny black neutronium block that had been dumped in the corner after they’d freed Vision.</p><p>“You want to use the neutronium?” Stark asked, somehow sounding both intrigued and skeptical at the same time.</p><p>“I guess we could make something to throw it at Thanos,” Rocket said dubiously.</p><p>“There has to be some way to split it apart,” Peter argued.</p><p>“Split it apart?” Rocket said incredulously.  “We don’t even know what’s keeping it together!”</p><p>“I’ve been working on that actually,” Tony said standing up, eyes affixed to the obsidian like block of metal.  “Electron backscatter suggests that the distance between each neutron is eighty three percent of the distance between the nuclei in a hydrogen molecule.  The neutrons are also larger than standard neutrons.”</p><p>“Well, that would explain its light weight,” Peter said, following Tony over to the device.  He frowned in thought.  “You think the extra size has something to do with it?” he asked.</p><p>“I think we’re looking at a stable pentaquark,” Tony agreed.</p><p>“But neutrons only have three quarks,” Peter pointed out.</p><p>“In nature,” Tony replied.  “My best guess is that the aether has somehow stabilized gluon interaction between the quarks.  Theoretically, that could increase the length of the flux tubes.”</p><p>“Wait,” Peter said as the implications hit him.  “You’re suggesting that the extra quarks in the neutrons have formed gluon pathways with quarks in adjacent hadrons; sort of a subatomic crystal lattice?”  Tony nodded absentmindedly.  “But that’s crazy,” Peter protested.  “That would require the pathways to stay viable at trillions of times their normal maximum range!”</p><p>“Alright, hold on,” Rocket cut in before Tony could respond.  Up until then he’d kept switching a rather confused look between the two.  By the time gluons had been brought up he was hopelessly lost.  He didn’t like being lost.  “Could either of you translate that jibber jabber into Galactic Standard English please?”</p><p>They both turned back to the talking racoon.  “Galactic Standard English?” Peter asked.</p><p>Tony had more important concerns on his mind.  “Jibber Jabber?” he asked, seeming somewhat amused.</p><p>“I got it from Quill,” Rocket replied slightly defensively.  “Something his grandfather used to say.  You’re turn,” he added, a demanding look in his eye.</p><p>Tony paused, trying to find a good start point for an impromptu introduction to Quantum Chromodynamics.  Teaching had never been his forte.  In truth he’d never understood the “normal” learning processes.  For him things just fell into place.  It made teaching hard, not to mention frustrating for both sides.</p><p>Fortunately, Peter had a bit of a flair for it.  “For a long time, atoms are considered the basic building blocks of the universe,” he said.  “They consist of a nucleus comprised of positively charged subatomic particles we call protons and neutrons, which have no charge.  Smaller, negatively charged particles called electrons orbit the nucleus in what we call the electron cloud.”  Peter paused to see if Rocket was still following.  The smaller creature waved a hand like paw in a ‘continue’ gesture.</p><p>“In the last half century experiments with high energy collisions have revealed that all subatomic particles are made up of smaller particles we call quarks.  Quarks can have either a positive two thirds charge, or a negative one third charge.  Anything comprised of quarks was denoted a hadron.  This includes neutrons and protons, but not electrons.  All stable hadrons have three quarks.  For instance, protons consist of a duo of two thirds charge ‘up’ quarks and a single one third charge ‘down’ quark.  Neutrons consist of one up and two down quarks.”  Peter paused again, to see if Rocket had lost the plot.</p><p>“Don’t stop, you’re on a roll,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“Quarks also have something we call color charge, but it has nothing to do with actual colors.  Gluons pass this charge from quark to quark, changing their color charge, via flux tubes.  It’s believed that this constant transaction of charge is what holds the quarks together at the hadron level and the neutrons and protons together at the subatomic level.  But flux tubes break down at distances greater than ten to the negative twelve millimeters,” he finished, aiming that last back at Tony.</p><p>“Wow,” Rocket said slowly.  It was hard to tell if he was being complementary or not.  Then again, he was rarely complementary so they could be forgiven for not having a baseline.</p><p>“What; why?” Peter asked defensively.  “Don’t tell me Quantum Chromodynamics is wrong,” he added.</p><p>“What?  No,” Rocket replied.  “It’s just shocking that a group so primitive they clutch to this belief that the speed of light is constant could somehow stumble on Micro Celestial physics.”</p><p>“Wait, relativity is wrong?” Peter asked, shocked.</p><p>“Micro Celestial Physics?” Tony asked, wondering who’d coined that ridiculous title.</p><p>“Supposedly it was called that because the electrons, as you call them, orbit your nucleus like planets orbiting a star.  Look I didn’t name it,” he protested when their looks failed to improve.  “But the tyke is right, what you call flux tubes would have to extend one hundred thousand times past their maximum limit in order to link up with another nucleus.”</p><p>“I’m not a tyke,” Peter protested.  Neither one of them paid the comment any attention.</p><p>“Observation trumps theory,” Tony said bluntly, his most natural form of communication.</p><p>“Or perhaps your observations are wrong,” Rocket replied in kind.</p><p>“Electron microscopes don’t leave a lot of room for interpretation,” Tony countered.</p><p>“Fine, what do you think is going on, since you seem to know everything already,” Rocket replied, glaring at the engineer.</p><p>“I believe the color charge transaction in these neutrons isn’t random,” Tony said, returning Rocket’s look.</p><p>“What does that have to do with it?” Peter asked, looking from one to the other.  He thought for a moment that they were going to ignore him again, but Rocket reluctantly shook himself free of the staring contest he’d initiated and glanced at Parker.</p><p>“There is a theory that suggests that the length of a . . . flux tube, as you call it, is related to the color charge being passed.  Some charges strengthen the tube, which could extend its limit, while others weaken it.  Normally these interactions are random so they cancel each other out.  The idea is that if you could order the charges being passed in a specific pattern you could maximize flux tube strength.”</p><p>“And you think that’s what’s happening here?” Peter asked.</p><p>“I’m certain of it,” Tony said confidently.</p><p>“What difference does it make?” Rocket growled.  “If your right there’s no way we can split individual neutrons off.”</p><p>“Nothing is impossible,” Tony stated.</p><p>“You’re talking about trying to counteract the -what do you call them anyway?”</p><p>“The strong and weak nuclear forces,” Peter supplied.</p><p>“Imaginative,” Rocket said sarcastically.</p><p>“Hey, I didn’t name them,” Peter replied, echoing Rocket’s earlier protestation.</p><p>Rocket let it pass.  “Fine, the strong and weak nuclear forces.  It doesn’t matter what you call it.  The bottom line is you propose to counteract the force that binds all matter together.”  Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Rocket plowed on.  “How?  I assume you weren’t planning on ramming it with fissile material,” he added, effortlessly blending hopefulness and fear in that last.</p><p>“We want to shear and weld the neutronium, not convert the block into energy,” Tony replied.</p><p>“I assume you have some concept of how to achieve that goal?” Rocket prompted.  In truth this sort of problem solving lay outside his normal domains of thought.  He’d never been designed, and if truth be told had no interest in being- a physicist.  He was a weapon with a somewhat all-encompassing interest in other weapons.  Give him a vague concept of something that could kill and he’d make it out of scrap parts.  But delving into the mysteries of the cosmos tended to induce narcoleptic tendencies.</p><p>“Peter?” Tony asked, turning to the youngest of the group.</p><p>“Um, you want to build a cyclotron?” he asked doubtfully.</p><p>“Bingo,” Tony said turning back to Rocket.</p><p>“What’s a cyclotron,” Rocket asked.</p><p>“Essentially, its two particle accelerators aimed at each other,” Tony answered.  “Get the particles going fast enough and their collision literally breaks the atoms into their component pieces.”</p><p>Rocket’s eyebrows rose in interest.  “Particle accelerators you say?” he asked with budding enthusiasm.</p><p>“Can we even build one big enough on this ship.”</p><p>“I think we can,” Tony said, eyes on Rocket.  “We won’t have to limit ourselves to electromagnetic propulsion.”</p><p>“Wait, isn’t gravity weaker than electromagnetism?” Peter argued.</p><p>“Yeah, but it’s more efficient for our purposes,” Rocket replied, already heading towards his stash of random parts.</p><p>“Because magnetic fields only affect nonferrous metal when they are extremely high powered,” Peter said as a light dawned.</p><p>“Then all we have to do is construct a way to capture the quarks and feed them to a finer mass accelerator,” Tony said, following Rocket across the room.</p><p>“A sub-subatomic particle accelerator?” Peter asked, following the other two.</p><p>“That’s easy,” Rocket said to Tony as he began tossing random components out of the bin.  “Sifting the quarks for maximum effect, that’s going to be the hard part.”</p><p>“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Tony said.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Day 11</p><p>An oddly disconcerting sound made Mantis pause in the corridor.  It wasn’t long before it repeated, a sort of harsh grunt.  The sort of grunt Drax gave off when he was injured.  She backtracked the noise to the gym entrance she’d just passed and stepped inside.</p><p>It became clear why she’d missed him on her way by.  Instead of working out on one of the machines, a far more sensible option in her opinion, Drax was swinging along the various handholds he’d had that Stark person install in the walls and ceiling.  Then again, Drax and sense had very little contact with each other.</p><p>Case in point: he was dangling from the twenty-foot ceiling with injured ribs.  Drax reached for the next handhold.  Again, he grunted in pain as his not insignificant body weight was shifted onto the injured side.  But his grip was firm.</p><p>Mantis nearly yelled out for him to be careful, but concern that an interruption might break his concentration stayed her tongue.  A moment later she wished she had.</p><p>Drax reached for the next handhold with his good arm.  It never made it.  Even Drax was not immune to the effects of pain on the body.  As he stretched towards the next rung in the wall his grip slipped.</p><p>The blue berserker cartwheeled down to the ground, somehow managing to land right side up.  His legs cushioned most of the fall before his body’s rotation threw him off center.  He sprawled onto the ground and lay there, breathing hard.</p><p>“Drax!” Mantis yelled, charging into the room.  By the time she got to him he was already on his hands and knees.</p><p>“You can’t push yourself so hard,” she chided, helping him to his feet.</p><p>Drax gave her a confused look.  “Of course, I can,” he said</p><p>“Well, you shouldn’t,” Mantis amended as he got back to his feet.</p><p>“I must prepare,” the blue man said before turning and heading to one of the workout machines.</p><p>“You don’t have to do it all at once; we still have three weeks before we reach Earth.”</p><p>“Two days,” Drax grunted.</p><p>“Until what?” Mantis asked.</p><p>“Rematch,” Drax grunted, working the sore muscles of his right side.  Mantis watched him, a growing look of concern on her face. </p><p>“She doesn’t have to be so mean,” she said finally.  There was just the slightest hint of petulance in her voice.</p><p>“She’s not,” Drax said, switching to work his uninjured side.</p><p>“She crushed your side this morning,” Mantis protested.</p><p>Drax twisted from the machine to look at her.  “Will Thanos be kinder?” he asked pointedly before turning back to his task.</p><p>“She’s supposed to be our ally,” Mantis replied.</p><p>“She is,” Drax replied matter-of-factly before moving to the next machine.  “She’s preparing us for the challenge.</p><p>“She’s brutal.”</p><p>“The more difficult the task the more difficult the training,” Drax replied philosophically.</p><p>“The more brutal the lessons the more sadistic the teacher,” Mantis said acidly.</p><p>Drax dropped the weight he was working with back on the rack and turned back to her.  “You are an empath,” he stated.</p><p>“Yes,” Mantis admitted.</p><p>“Do you sense that she enjoys it?”</p><p>Mantis hesitated.  “No,” she admitted.  “All I ever get from her is rage,” she added</p><p>Drax shrugged.  “So, she’s like me,” he said pointedly.</p><p>“No,” Mantis replied with a shake of her head.  “Your rage is hot like an explosion.  Hers is cold and dense.  It feels more like gravity.”</p><p>“Sounds the same” Drax muttered, turning to the next machine.</p><p>Mantis stifled a cry of frustration.  Sometimes there was no talking to Drax.  To him rage was rage and that was that.  She had no idea how to explain to him the different flavors of emotions.  It was like trying to explain color to a person born blind.  An incredibly stubborn person in this case.</p><p>“Drax,” Mantis said pleadingly “don’t fight her again.”</p><p>“Why?” Drax asked without pause.  There was no sarcasm in his question, no recrimination.  He truly didn’t understand her request.</p><p>“She nearly killed you last time,” Mantis protested.  “Aren’t you afraid?”</p><p>Drax turned back around.  He stared at her for a moment as if coming to a decision.  “Yes,” he admitted slowly.  “But I am more afraid of failing my family,” he added before turning back to his exercises.</p><p>Mantis flinched as if his words had been a physical slap across her face.  In a way it had been.  She’d never had much martial training under Ego’s care.  Honestly, she’d had no interest in gaining such expertise.  On the ship she’d participated in the martial classes grudgingly and refused to be a part of the battle simulations. </p><p>But then, she hadn’t had anyone she wanted to protect either.</p><p>Wordlessly, she stepped over to the machine Drax had just finished with.  Drax was right; this was her family.  If learning to fight is what it took to keep them safe then she would learn to fight.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>Day 14</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Sam greeted as Wade entered the mess hall. </p><p>“Yo,” that worthy replied, marching across the room to the pantry.  Sam watched him with a slight sense of alarm.  There was something odd about the way he was moving, and there were small triangular peaks on the front of his suit.</p><p>Sam set his spoon next to his bowl of cereal.  “How goes your attempts to grant the sisters a sense of humor?”</p><p>“That depends,” Wade replied cryptically.</p><p>“Depends on what?” Sam asked.</p><p>“On how many knives,” Wade replied as he passed him on the way to the pantry.</p><p>“On what-” Sam started before doing a double take.  “Dude, seriously?” he insisted.  “I’m trying to eat here.”  In truth he wasn’t sure why that sight bothered him so much.  He was a decorated combat veteran.  He’d seen plenty of wounded in his day: big wounds, little wounds, missing limbs, entrails hanging out enough to play jump rope with.  He’d always handled it and moved on.  By the end of his tour he’d become so inured to it that it registered to him the way most people registered the color of a room they’d just entered.</p><p>But the sight of someone walking around with three knives buried up to the hilt in their back was enough to put him off his feed.</p><p>“Oh yeah,” Wade replied as if he’d genuinely forgotten the sisters’ latest attempts to use him as a pin cushion.  “You mind?” he asked.  Sam’s face twisted in disgust even as he got up to remove the implements.  Wade turned to lean on the counter separating the prep and consumption sections of the ship’s galley.</p><p>“Why didn’t you go to the medical bay?” Sam asked as he got a grip on the first one and pulled it out.  It came out with a snick sound.  He slapped it on the counter Wade was bracing against and moved to the next.  Snick, thunk.</p><p>“Banner was busy with Thor.  Apparently, the biker dyke did a real number on him,” Deadpool replied as the second blade came out.  “Besides, I was hungry,” he added with a shrug as the third blade was removed.  Snick, thunk.</p><p>Wade glanced down at the counter.  “Only three this time,” he announced as if that information would be followed by some kind of prize.</p><p>“So, making progress then?” Sam replied sarcastically as he walked back to his bowl of cereal.</p><p>“Yep,” Wade replied walking around the counter.</p><p>“So, Bruce was too busy to do that?” Sam asked pointedly.</p><p>Wade shrugged.  “Well, he has been making noises about not undoing the damage I cause.  Says the guy who heals himself shouldn’t be the guy that takes up most of his time or some such.  I think he just doesn’t want to provide care outside his HMO network.”</p><p>“Have you considered, oh I don’t know, leaving those two alone?” Sam asked pointedly.</p><p>“Never occurred to me,” Wade replied as he rummaged around in one of the cupboards.  Sam couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.</p><p>He decided to take the statement at face value.  Wilson was just crazy enough for it to be true.  “Maybe you should,” Sam stated firmly as Wade exited the galley with a handful of energy bars.</p><p>“Trust me, those girls are crying out to made to laugh,” Wade replied, heading for the exit.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date in the Oval-gon.”  And with that he was gone.  Sam picked his spoon up and continued eating, contemplating the door the man had just exited through.  He wasn’t sure whether to respect the madman or dismiss him as one.  In the end he supposed it didn’t matter.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Thor couldn’t sleep.  His mind insisted on replaying the day’s fight, whether he’d wanted it to or not.  It wasn’t so much that he’d lost; he’d lost to his sister as well.  But at least that had been a fight.  It had been a long time since he’d been humiliated in battle like that.</p><p>The fight had started out predictably enough.  After a couple hits from his hammer Nebula had attempted to disarm him.  He hadn’t actually let her, but nor had he defended himself from that rather predictable tactic; in truth, he’d rather enjoyed watching her try to lift the hammer.</p><p>But that entertainment had been rather more short-lived than normal.  She’d quickly caught on to the fact that she wasn’t going to turn his weapon against him.  As he recalled the hammer she’d counterattacked, by breaking both of his arms.  The match had been called directly thereafter.</p><p>The arms were of course healed, thanks to their de facto doctor and the well provisioned medical bay on the ship.  But the frustration that encounter had engendered had not.</p><p>No, that wasn’t right, he realized suddenly.  He’d been getting more impatient, more frustrated, long before the fight.  It had been building inside him for some time now, without his notice.  He couldn’t exactly pin down when it had begun.  He rolled onto his right side to face the wall next to his bed and tried to trace the origin of those feelings.</p><p>“You mustn’t blame yourself, my son,” Odin’s voice said from behind him.  Thor’s head twisted around just enough to see a golden haloed version of his father sitting in one of the finely upholstered chairs dotting his room.  He paused there for a moment before continuing the roll onto his back.  He stared at the ceiling as those words ran through his head again and again.</p><p>“Who should I blame?” he asked pointedly.  “Half a galaxy is in danger of being exterminated because of my pride.”</p><p>Odin paused for a moment.  He could hear the hollowness of that argument.  If Thor truly blamed himself, he’d have sought out Odin’s advice long before now.  “Is it your pride, or your faith in me you’ve come to question?” he asked.</p><p>“Both,” Thor replied bitterly.  “Opposing Hela was a mistake,” he added quietly. </p><p>“Oh?” Odin asked, sounding almost amused.  “And now you would allow her to set the galaxy ablaze with war?”  he seemed almost amused at the prospect.</p><p>Thor rolled to face his father, revealing his patched eye, a souvenir of his prideful defiance.  “Now I would help her,” he said coldly. </p><p>“Why?” Odin asked, almost as if he were humoring his son.</p><p>Thor rolled back onto his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to order his thoughts.  “Thanos was no threat to us,” he said at last.  “As long as Asgard stood the galaxy was safe.  We could have continued to expand, bringing more realms into our influence, until we could have met him anywhere in the galaxy and killed him.”</p><p>“So, now you support the very policies I put a stop to when you were but an infant,” Odin commented.</p><p>Thor turned his head to look back at his father.  “Did it ever occur to you that that might just have been a mistake?” Thor replied with a cold eye.</p><p>Odin didn’t respond immediately.  He looked away, as if seeing the room around them for the first time.  But he wasn’t seeing the room, he was seeing his final breaking with Hela.  She’d insisted on continuing their crusades.  Oh, not for fear of Thanos or any other.  That may have been how it started, but by the end she’d thirsted for conquest simply for the sake of conquest.</p><p>He’d tried so hard to keep the same thing from happening with his sons; but in the end, Thor was still his son.  Odin couldn’t bear to watch him follow the path he’d followed in his youth, but he wasn’t sure how to change his mind.  He’d tried explaining to Hela so long ago, but she’d refused to hear him.  Would Thor do the same?</p><p>There was one difference between Thor and Hela.  He could only hope it would be enough of a difference.</p><p>Odin cleared his throat.  “I never did tell you how I came to adopt Loki,” he commented.</p><p>Thor looked back at the ceiling.  “That would have been hard considering that we only learned he was adopted a few years ago,” he replied, maintaining his frosty demeanor.</p><p>“It was on the eve of our conquest of Jotunheim,” Odin continued, doing his best to ignore his son’s anger.</p><p>“We never conquered Jotunheim,” Thor pointed out.</p><p>“No,” Odin replied with a mixture of sadness and shame.  Even after all this time it was still so hard to think about the horrors he’d committed back then.  “No, but we were going to,” he continued.  “I’d become intent upon the very path you would devote yourself to now.  But as we stormed Laufey’s capital I noticed something hiding in the snow.”</p><p>“Let me guess, a small ice child that melted your heart and turned you to good,” Thor cut in sarcastically.</p><p>“A bonfire on the ice actually,” Odin replied frankly.  “With the battle all but won, I chose to investigate.  I expected to find some odd curiosity.  Instead I found the smallest baby Frost Giant I’d ever heard of.  So small it had been seen as unfit and left to die of exposure.”</p><p>“And the flames?” Thor asked, trying to hide his interest.</p><p>“The flames,” Odin repeated sentimentally.  “Those flames were the product of that infant’s mind.  An illusion that shed warmth.  I’d never seen anything like it.  Never in all the histories’ of the nine realms has anyone shown such a gift for the magical arts.  The strength of his will alone was astounding.”  Odin smiled remembering that one good moment on that dark day.</p><p>Then his expression hardened again.  “Yet the Frost Giants did not care.  They would have let him die, because he did not conform to their idea of strength.”</p><p>Thor shrugged.  “So, their narrow mindedness was their undoing,” he stated.  “I fail to see why that would prompt you to stop your conquests.  By all rights they would have had far better government under your leadership.”</p><p>“They would have had the <em>same</em> government,” Odin snarled bitterly.  “Just a new figurehead.”</p><p>Thor rolled back to face Odin.  “Father you can’t possibly believe you were ever like Laufey,” he protested.</p><p>“Can’t I?” Odin asked harshly.  “I allowed my fears to turn me into the very thing I sought to destroy.  I slaughtered the defenders of nine realms in my quest for power.  I destroyed their cultures and rebuilt them along my concepts of strength.”  He took a breath, calming himself.  “But there is no strength that comes without a corresponding weakness,” he continued.  “And the greater that strength, the greater the weakness.”</p><p>“Is that not better than no strength at all?” Thor asked pointedly.</p><p>“There is another kind of strength my son,” Odin replied.  “It is a form of strength that comes from the unity of many strengths.  When each differing strength covers another weakness.  Loki showed me.  I stopped our people’s conquests of others.  I fostered relationships with other peoples.  I did my best to bridge the gaps I’d created, and allowed our conquered realms to search for their own paths.  And when the Frost Giants invaded other realms, I sent my armies.  But instead of marching to conquest they marched to the defense of those who could not defend themselves, lest they too lose the chance to discover their true strengths.  I sent my two sons to ensure that opportunity.  And when they’d overcome their armies, I required of Laufey the source of their power.  Not to destroy their culture, but to keep them from destroying the cultures of so many others.”</p><p>“And yet here we are,” Thor said bitterly.</p><p>“Here <em>you</em> are,” Odin corrected “surrounded by one of those races you helped to protect; a race of people who have found more versions of strength than a hundred worlds combined.  But those worlds are still out there.  Each has something to offer this struggle.  All they need is the opportunity.  You can give them that.”</p><p>“I’m a warrior not a diplomat,” Thor muttered, turning back on his back again.</p><p>“You are a king,” Odin replied sharply.  “And you are my son,” he added, in a softer tone.    “More to the point, you are Thor, God of Thunder, Champion of the Weak, and one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met,” Odin added, a slight twinkle in his eyes.  “All attributes that lend themselves well to diplomacy.”</p><p>A slight grin cracked Thor’s stony mask, but it was a fleeting moment.</p><p>“What of Loki?” Thor asked.</p><p>The twinkle disappeared from Odin’s face.  “I know you worry for Loki,” he said.  “I wish I could say he was alright, but I cannot reach him.”</p><p>“Thanos has twisted him to his purposes,” Thor stated bitterly.</p><p>“You can’t know that,” Odin replied softly.</p><p>“He stopped Clint from disintegrating Thanos’s ship inside a hyperspace portal,” Thor replied bitterly.  “If not for him the threat would be eliminated.”</p><p>Odin was silent for a moment.  “Perhaps your brother has more faith in you than you do?” he offered.</p><p>Thor shook his head.  He didn’t even have to consider that interpretation, which wasn’t to say that he didn’t long to.  When Tony had first proffered the idea that Loki might just have helped Clint in a backhanded way, he’d wanted it to be true.  But he’d come to realize that it was so much wishful thinking.  The sisters knew the truth; no one resisted Thanos’s will for long.  No one could.</p><p>“How I wish I could believe that Father,” he said sadly.  “But Thanos twists everyone that comes within his grasp.  Everyone.  Knowing how stubborn he is will only make Thanos torture him more.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t be so sure of that were I you,” Odin replied.  “There’s one young woman residing on this very ship he was never able to completely twist.”  Thor shrugged noncommittally.  He wanted his father to be correct more than anything, except perhaps to gain the ability to spare his brother that ordeal entirely.  But the very strength of that desire made him distrust its conclusion even more.</p><p>And there was something else.  He’d spent so long hoping he could redeem his brother.  He’d spent so much time hoping and praying.  And on the few occasions where his brother had seemed to have redeemed himself there’d always been some scheme he was working on.  In truth, Thor was tired of hoping his brother would come around.</p><p>“I don’t know father,” he said finally, with a sigh.</p><p>“Neither do I,” Odin admitted.  “What do you believe?”</p><p>“I believe I don’t know,” Thor snapped.  He was in no mood for riddles or koans or anecdotes.  Nor was he interested in an impromptu counseling session, whatever their current positions were.</p><p>Odin shrugged.  “In the end it’s not important.  What’s important is whether you are fully prepared for the coming conflict.”  With that he was gone.</p><p>“Thanks for being my Obi-Wan,” Thor murmured to himself, laying back down.  But still he couldn’t sleep.  The conversation kept working its way through his brain, like a worm in an apple.</p><p>He realized that his father was right about at least one thing.  He’d become so consumed with what might have been that he’d ignored the alternatives completely.  Asgard had built up a fair amount of good will amongst the various polities of the stars.  Surely some of them would come to their aid now, particularly when they had so much to lose themselves.  All he had to do was convince them.</p><p>He lurched back to his feet and headed out the door.  He had some networking to do.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>Day 19</p><p> </p><p>Gamora stalked down the hall towards the lab in a fury.  The noise grew steadily louder as she approached, punctuated by voices somehow raised above it.</p><p>In a rich man’s luxury yacht the idea of hearing anything even one cabin over was absurd.  This ship had the best sound proofing money could buy.  Yet she could hear the argument down the hall from her quarters.</p><p>At this point she’d given up.  She didn’t know what they were arguing about, but she no longer cared.  She had tried to help weld the various groups on this ship into a seamless fighting force for nearly three weeks now, and what had it gotten her?  A screaming match that could probably be heard through the entire ship.  Perhaps if she welded a couple of <em>them</em> together, they’d learn to behave as something other than a clutch of three-year-olds.</p><p>She reached the door and smacked the control panel, a blow calibrated just below the guiltless switch’s breaking threshold.  The door whooshed open, manumitting the full volume of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jgrCKhxE1s">Through the Fire and Flames</a>, by Dragonforce, into the hall at what seemed to be 200 decibels.  Such was the intensity of that blast of sound that her yelled threats fell forgotten in her throat.</p><p>“All I hear is noise!” Quill managed to yell over the music.  Gamora didn’t even try to exceed the sound level.  She grabbed the nearest item not bolted to the ship and hurled it at the off switch on the console Quill, Tony, Drax, and Rocket were huddled around.  The four turned as one to look at the door as the sound cut off.</p><p>“What is wrong with you four?” she demanded, still incensed.</p><p>Quill was the first to speak up.  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.  “We were just having a . . .” he trailed off, lost for how to explain this while avoiding pissing her off.</p><p>“Having a friendly discussion on the merits of various music styles,” Tony put in.</p><p>“Discussion?!” Gamora snapped.  “I could hear you down at the other end of the hall.”</p><p>“Did it help you sleep?” Drax asked.</p><p>Gamora awarded him a disbelieving look.  “No, it did not help me sleep!” she nearly yelled.</p><p>“I thought it was soothing,” Drax offered slightly defensively.</p><p>“Sorry,” Quill apologized again.  “I guess we got carried away.  Didn’t we?” he asked pointedly, glancing at the others.  A moment later the other contestants echoed his apology.  “We’ll keep it down,” he added.</p><p>“Thank you,” Gamora said, more stunned than anything else.  In the three weeks they’d been on this ship she’d never known Quill or Stark to take the other’s lead.  She’d been starting to fear that those two were the type that would just never get along.  That development in itself was worth being woken up for, really.</p><p>“Now what was so important it was worth risking permanent hearing loss, anyway?” she asked curiously.</p><p>“Well, just listen,” Quill said, jumping at the opportunity like a five-year-old when one of their parents showed even the most remote interest in whatever they were doing.  He quickly reached up to the display she’d just assaulted, lowered the volume, and switched tracks.  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2X_2IdybTV0">Carry on Wayward Son</a>, by Kansas began playing softly through the speakers she just noticed had been strung all around the room.  Quill and Rocket’s heads both started bobbing to the vocals at the beginning</p><p>“Now listen to this,” Quill said, voice falling into his rarely used lecture mode.  “It’s a full song.  There’s a piano counterpoint running through it.  It has good riffs, and the lyrics are incredible.”</p><p>“It’s a cure for insomnia,” Stark stated.  “It’s a wonder the band doesn’t fall asleep playing it it, let alone the listener.”</p><p>“It has soul,” Rocket replied pointedly.</p><p>“It’s the beginner song in How to Play Guitar: Book One,” Stark replied reaching up to the controls.  Kansas cut off, replaced by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nxcJW6bs5os">You Can’t Bring Me Down</a>, by Suicidal Tendencies.  “Now listen to this,” he instructed.</p><p>They listened for a few moments.  “Okay this doesn’t sound that bad,” Quill admitted.</p><p>“Just wait, it gets better,” Tony said in anticipation.  A few moments later the intro ended.</p><p>“Nope,” Quill said as one long mash of guitar filled the room.</p><p>“What’s wrong with it?” Stark demanded.</p><p>“Where do I begin?” Rocket replied.  “It’s just one solid wall of noise.  I can’t even understand the lyrics.  And I can sing better than that.  Listen,” he added, taking a deep breath.</p><p>“NO!” Quill and Drax yelled in unison.  “Trust me, you don’t want that,” the space rogue said to Stark’s curious look.  “But he’s right; it’s not music or singing.”</p><p>“It’s complexity and skill,” Tony retorted indignantly.  “Do you know how many artists can play that riff?”</p><p>“Do you know how many people actually want to hear it?” Rocket shot back.</p><p>“I like it,” Drax put in.  “It reminds me of the music of my home,” he explained.</p><p>“They had three gold albums, so I’d say quite a few,” Stark replied evenly, ignoring Drax’s comment.  “Besides the blue berserker here, of course.”</p><p>“Look you want complexity?” Quill asked?  “Try this,” he said flipping through the songs on his player.  He eventually found the one he was looking for and sent it to the sound system.  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CkkQPxoxJJY">Suite Madame Blue,</a> by Styx began playing.</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “That’s alright I guess,” he said as the guitar intro began.  “But it’s hardly what I’d call complex.”</p><p>“This isn’t the guitar solo,” Quill replied.</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re wasting your time with this,” Gamora stated as they listened to the song’s slow buildup.  In truth she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.  To her, arguing about music was a waste of time.  But they were interacting civilly for the first time.  That had to count for something.</p><p>“Shhh,” Quill chided her absentmindedly.  Normally she wasn’t one to be shushed, but in this case, she decided to just wait and see where things went.</p><p>It took a few minutes to get to the guitar solo.  Stark had become quite impatient by the time it flooded the room.  Despite that they could all tell he was impressed.</p><p>“Not bad,” he said as it passed, “but short.  Any professional guitarist could play that.”</p><p>“But how many of them could write it?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Any of them,” Stark replied.  “But they could have written it longer.”</p><p>“But that’s the point,” Quill replied quickly.  “You’re ‘solos’,” he said holding his fingers up in air quotes, “last the entire length of the song.  It’s like the entire song is just an excuse for them to show off.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with that?” Tony asked confused.</p><p>“Nothing, unless you use up the entire song,” Rocket replied.  “Then no one else gets a chance to show off.  Unless they just play their solos at the same time, that is.  Hence the noise.”</p><p>“They just drowned each other out,” Quill agreed.  “So, it’s just four different showboats competing with each other.  That’s noise, not harmony.  Personally, I get enough of people showboating at work,” he added with a slight grin.</p><p>“You guys just don’t appreciate the difficulty of playing that music,” Tony insisted.</p><p>“Please,” Quill asserted, gaining a confused look from all assembled, “If skill was all you were worried about, you’d have us listening to one-man polka band music,” he added pointedly.  Tony blinked at that, almost as if the space rogue had punched him right between the eyes.</p><p>Gamora decided to let herself out at that point.  She had no doubt this conversation would go on well into tomorrow.  And in the end, nothing would be resolved.  Not that that knowledge had any effect on the slight smile that was working its way across her face as she headed back to her quarters.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Secrets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Statesman</p><p>Oval-gone</p><p>Day 29</p><p> </p><p>“Is it just me or does Nebula seem . . . off when she’s fighting Gamora?” Stark asked the group assembled in the viewing area of what had become known as The Ovalgone.  For once, nearly everyone had shown up to watch the various fights of the day.  Not that most of them hadn’t tried to catch a good amount; they had.  But rarely were the generously spaced seats filled even close to capacity.  But the only people not seated just happened to be those involved in the current bout.</p><p>In this case, what had started as a three on three had devolved into a one on one.  Rocket, Bucky, Sam, and Brunnhilde, by dint of having been disabled, were off to one side watching the last member of each team slug it out.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Quill asked as Nebula backpedaled, blocking Gamora’s sword strikes with her metal hand.</p><p>“I mean she had no trouble disarming Brunnhilde of her sword just earlier this fight,” Stark replied pointedly.</p><p>“Maybe Gamora’s just better with a sword,” Quill offered.</p><p>“Better than Valkyrie with four thousand years of experience?” Thor asked doubtfully.</p><p>“The way I hear it she’s spent the last couple millennia drunk,” Quill replied.</p><p>“And the last few years sparring with The Hulk,” Thor retorted.</p><p>“Yeah, I still don’t get why you guys are so afraid of that guy,” Quill replied.  “Big and strong is hardly a new power set in the galaxy.”</p><p>Natasha turned to Banner.  “You want to take this one Bruce?” he asked.</p><p>“No, I’m good,” Banner said automatically.</p><p>“I’d say that’s pretty telling in itself, wouldn’t you?” Tony commented.</p><p>“The Hulk’s capabilities are not relevant to this conversation,” T’Challa stated, preempting the inevitable argument on whether that last point was valid.  “Mr. Stark has a point; Gamora is not employing any styles superior to those Brunnhilde used.  In fact, as we’ve discussed this issue Nebula has failed to capitalize on no less than three openings in Gamora’s attacks.”</p><p>“So . . . what?” Steve asked.  “Nebula is letting Gamora win?”</p><p>“People aren’t exactly my strong suit,” Tony replied with a half grin.  “All I know is that Nebula tends to win every fight as quickly -and as generally brutally- as she can <em>except</em> when she fights Gamora.”</p><p>“I’ll second that,” Thor commented, drawing surprised looks from half those assembled.</p><p>“Wait, she beat you?” Tony asked, echoing what all who knew him were thinking.</p><p>Thor nodded.  “She tried to pick up the hammer once.  When she realized she could not lift it she broke both of my arms.”</p><p>“Ensuring you couldn’t lift it either,” Tony commented wryly, earning a slight grin from the Asgardian.</p><p>“Okay, I’ll admit that beating a god is impressive,” Quill replied “but that still doesn’t prove Gamora couldn’t beat her.  I mean, they’ve known each other their entire lives.”</p><p>“Friday?” Tony asked, glancing ceilingward.</p><p>“To date Gamora has won nearly half of her fights.  Average fight time is seven minutes twenty-six seconds,” the AI reported.  “Nebula has won every bout not involving Gamora.  Average fight time is two and a half minutes.  When you factor out her fights with Gamora her average fight time is thirty-seven seconds.  Longest victory was against Mr. Parker at one minute twenty-nine seconds.”</p><p>They all turned to Peter.  “Kid, what’s your secret?” Tony asked.</p><p>Peter shrugged.  “I don’t know, I just kept moving around a bunch,” the kid replied.  “I couldn’t actually hit her at all,” he added as he thought back to that fight.  “It’s like . . . I don’t know.”</p><p>“It is as if she knows where you will strike before you do, and chooses not to be there.  And while you are wondering why you didn’t hit her, she is breaking your body,” T’Challa stated.</p><p>“Thank God for the med bay,” Steve agreed.</p><p>“So, how’d she get you, Parker?” Tony asked, ignoring Steve’s comment.   “I would have thought you at least could have held it to a draw.”</p><p>“She caught one of my webs and yanked me off the wall,” Peter reported.  “Then she hogtied me and chucked me into the hallway.”</p><p>“Okay, okay,” Quill cut back in.  “I’ll grant she might just be the best fighter aboard, but that doesn’t mean it’s unlikely for Gamora to beat her.  Everyone knows that certain fighting styles beat other fighting styles.”</p><p>“That statement does have some truth to it,” T’Challa admitted.  “But only when it refers to the use of rigid fighting styles focusing on memorized reactions to stimuli.  I see no evidence of such methods in their fighting.  In fact, they are two of the most adaptable fighters I have ever encountered.”</p><p>Steve squinted at that, reading between what T’Challa had said.  “How’d she get you?” he asked curiously.</p><p>“She quickly realized my suit protected me from her blows and shifted tactics to ripping the pendants that contain the suit when not in use off.”</p><p>“I didn’t think that was possible,” Steve commented.</p><p>“The pendants are designed to make it difficult,” T’Challa replied.  “And you?” he asked Steve.</p><p>“She took my shield away,” Steve replied in a subdued tone.  “You?” he asked, turning his gaze to Quill.</p><p>The space rogue hesitated a moment.  “She closed on me, somehow avoiding my shots.  When I activated my thrusters, she jumped into the observation deck and threw chairs at me to knock me down.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Tony grunted in interest.  “When I took to the air, she ripped a twenty-foot length of railing from the divider,” he said indicating the safety rail separating the viewing area from the combat area, “and played pinata with me.”</p><p>“Well, the second time,” Tony admitted.  “The first time she closed before I could take off and proceeded with a series of radical dislocations on my suit.”</p><p>“She what?” Drax asked in confusion.</p><p>“She tore pieces of his suit off,” Quill translated, seeming rather amused.</p><p>“It took six hours to fix,” Tony grumbled, less amused.</p><p>“Okay, so she’s a badass,” Quill said grudgingly.  “But that still doesn’t mean she’s letting Gamora win.”</p><p>“Yet, when anyone else attacks her with a melee weapon, it is immediately liberated,” T’Challa observed.  “I see nothing in Gamora’s movement or style that would in any way negate that.”</p><p>“I think at this point we are beyond wondering if she is throwing the match,” Jarvis said. </p><p>“I don’t believe she is even aware that she does it,” Drax commented, watching the two women intently.</p><p>“How do you not know when you’re letting someone win?” Tony asked doubtfully.</p><p>“It suggests that she’s been doing it for a long time,” Steve replied.  “Long enough that it’s become second nature.”</p><p>“Why would anyone create that habit?” Quill asked, echoing Tony’s skepticism.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Steve said slowly “but we’ve got to stop it.”</p><p>“Why?” Quill asked.  It’s not hurting anyone.  “Well, other than Nebula,” he added as Gamora smacked the taller woman with the flat of her blade.</p><p>“Not yet,” Parker put in.  “But Thanos has The Mind Stone.  What if he uses it on Gamora?”</p><p>“One of us will deal with her then,” Drax replied with an air of certainty.</p><p>Steve shook his head.  “We can’t guarantee that any of us will be in a position to do so,” he said.  “And based on what we’ve seen its quite likely Thanos would get a kick out of pitting the two against each other.  If it comes to it, Nebula must be prepared to take Gamora down.”</p><p>“Great,” Quill replied.  “So, who gets to explain things?”</p><p>“I nominate Steve for that honor,” Tony said.</p><p>“What; me?” Rogers protested.</p><p>“Hey you’re the people person,” Tony replied.   “I just handle the machines.”</p><p>Steve shook his head.  “We’re talking about someone who’s practiced in the art of the non-answer,” he countered.  “If Drax is correct she’s even managed to hide what she’s doing from herself.  Whoever does this is going to have to keep her off balance long enough for the truth to slip out.  That’s right in your wheel house Tony.”</p><p>“Maybe, but I doubt I’d make much progress dredging up her feelings while wearing my armor,” Tony replied pointedly.</p><p>“So don’t wear it,” Steve replied.  Tony gave him a look that perfectly described how ridiculously idiotic that statement was.  Pictures being worth a thousand words and all.</p><p>“The person confronting her will also need to be able to do so without seeming threatening in any way,” T’Challa put in.  “Any sign of aggression will provoke only one response.”</p><p>“Are you saying I’m not threatening?” Steve asked, sounding slightly amused.</p><p>“Not at all,” T’Challa replied congenially.</p><p>“It’s just that you tend to have this aura of good will about you,” Quill put in.  “It’s super annoying most of the time, really.”</p><p>“What about the King?” Steve protested.</p><p>“I fear I would not have the same chance of success,” T’Challa said.</p><p>“Why not?” Steve asked.</p><p>“One,” T’Challa replied, counting reasons on his fingers, “because my culture diverges further from her attitudes than does yours.  Two, you have developed a rapport with Gamora; this will add to your credibility, or at the very least, give her pause in outright attacking you.  Three, you share a similar history in that you were both bullied by those much stronger than you in your youths.  Four, you are a natural leader.  Five, you are an eternal optimist who sees the best in people.  If anyone aside from her sister has a chance of getting her to listen, it is you,” he concluded.</p><p>“Great,” Steve said in surrender.</p><p>“Just remember that the success of our mission may well hang in the balance, and no pressure,” Tony replied, clapping him on the back.</p><p>Steve shook his head in an attempt to keep from grinning.  “Fine, but nobody say anything about this until I find out what’s going on,” he ordered, getting up to leave.  If he was going to do this, he had to take every advantage he could think of.  That included choosing the locale and timing of the event.  He needed a place and time that would help him keep her off balance.  It was the best chance he had of getting the truth out of her.  Or of getting her to pound him into round steak.  He wasn’t sure which.  The one thing he was sure of was that this was not the right place to confront her.</p><p>“You might want to take your shield,” Quill called out behind him, echoing that latest thought.  Steve turned to catch the thrown object, gave a quick nod of thanks, and left.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Steve sat on Nebula’s bed facing the door at the opposite end of the room.  It had taken him little time choose that locale as the only suitable place for this confrontation.  It was private, which meant she wouldn’t be worrying about what onlookers thought, and it was her personal sanctum, which would help provoke her.</p><p>Of course, the corollary of those two points was that she would be easily provoked, and no one would be able to hear him scream for help if he pushed it too far.  He did have a communicator and his shield tucked in the small space between the other end of the bed and the wall to try and reduce those risks; he figured if he couldn’t get to the door, he should be able to get to them.  But that thought was only small comfort.  That woman was ‘scary good’ (as Scott put it) at hurting people.</p><p>Not for the first time he wished he had Tony’s seemingly natural ability to piss people off just shy of killing him.  He’d dismissed the idea of having Tony coach him through this encounter via earbud almost immediately; he didn’t know exactly how enhanced Nebula’s senses were, but he figured she’d hear the tiny microphone.  He could not imagine any outcome of that eventuality going well.</p><p>But that didn’t change the fact that Tony’s patented keep-them-off-balance conversational style wasn’t what was required here.  He was willing to admit that Tony wasn’t the right person to send in, but he’d quickly come to the conclusion that he had to think like Tony, which was where the majority of his prep time had been spent.</p><p>Nebula entered her quarters, turning right, towards the dresser wedged in that corner of the room.  She made no sign of having even noted Steve’s presence.</p><p>“You have five seconds to get out,” she growled without so much as a glance in his direction.  She pulled open the top drawer and extracted a tool with no more thought to the intruder in her domain than she’d have given a death threat.</p><p>“Normally I would be happy to grant a lady her privacy,” Steve started.  Nebula’s head snapped around, eyes searching his face to see if his choice of noun was an attempt to mock her.  Steve forced himself to continue.  “But in this case, I must decline.  We need to talk.”</p><p>Nebula turned back to the tool, applying it to the gash Gamora had rent in her arm.  “I have nothing to say to you,” she declared, concentrating on her work.</p><p>“Yes, well, I’m afraid I do have a few things that need to be said to you,” Steve replied firmly.  She turned again, launching another glare at him.  He simply waited.  He could almost see the various possible responses to his defiance scrolling through her head.</p><p>“Be quick,” she said at last.</p><p>“Of course,” Steve replied amicably, planning nothing of the sort.  He opened with a well-rehearsed speech.  “Assuming nothing else goes wrong we’ll reach Earth around mid-day tomorrow,” he said, deliberately talking around the subject of this meeting.  “As you know there’s a good chance that your old man will already be there.” </p><p>“He is <em>not</em> ‘my old man’,” Nebula grated threateningly.</p><p>“My apologies,” Steve replied, not sounding all that apologetic.  It was something he’d learned from Tony.  “Would ‘your orphan keeper’ be more accurate?” he quipped, feeling a small twinge from his conscience.  Nebula simply glared. </p><p>Steve continued.  “As I was about to say, I’m sure you can understand that we need each person at their best.  The only chance we have is if we can all work tog-” he started, coming to an abrupt halt as Nebula slammed the instrument, she’d been using back into the dresser drawer.</p><p>“Get to the point,” she demanded impatiently, still not looking at him.</p><p>Steve fought back the urge, to comply.  <em>Think like Tony, think like Tony</em>, he reminded himself.  But how?  She needed more prodding, but it had never occurred to him that getting under someone’s skin could be so difficult.  Tony always made it seem effortless.</p><p>He’d spent the thirty minutes since being volunteered for this particular duty wracking his brain on how to pull it off, but as he stared at her he realized that the goal was not to avoid the subject; it was to creep up on it slowly, like a cat hunting a bird.  He had to time his ideological strike to coincide with a level of frustration (also created by him) high enough to get her to speak without thinking.  He couldn’t just ask why she let Gamora win.  She’d just deny it.</p><p>She wasn’t there yet, he decided.  Steve cocked his head.  “If you will allow me,” he said as prim as any proper British aristocrat could have managed.  She didn’t respond, unless you counted a slight hardening of her glare.</p><p>Steve continued.  “Thank you,” he said, as if she’d actually given him her permission for any of this.  “As I was saying, the success of this mission will require strong interpersonal relationships.  Everyone must be able to work together like the pieces of a-” he stumbled to a momentary stop.  <em>‘A machine’</em> was what he’d been about to say before his eye had fallen on her various prosthesis.  “A team,” he finished. </p><p>He did his best to ignore the irony of the fact that he was actually here for quite the opposite reason.  He wasn’t here to convince her to play nice.  He was here to convince her that she needed to stop laying off when she fought her sister.</p><p>“So?” Nebula demanded, somehow making it clear with that monosyllable word that his clock was running out.</p><p>“So it doesn’t help when you’re spending all of your time calling everyone around you idiots and threatening to kill them,” Steve said as bluntly as possible.</p><p>She blinked.  “You are idiots,” she said simply.</p><p>Steve cocked his head.  “What makes you say that?” he asked.</p><p>“You idiots actually believe you have a chance,” she grated.  “’The success of our mission’,” she quoted from his earlier statement.  “There is no success here.  How many times do you have to lose before you figure that out?”</p><p>“If you think so poorly of our chances, then why are you here?” Steve asked.</p><p>Nebula looked away from him, as if searching for what to say.  “Get out,” she said eventually.</p><p><em>‘Now’</em>, Steve thought to himself.  He made like he was going to comply, then halted.  “One more thing,” he said.  “I ended up having to leave at the end of your last fight,” he said, only slightly dishonestly.  “Who won?”</p><p>Her head turned slowly to face him, one eyebrow arched.  “You’re bothering me for a fight score?” she asked disbelievingly.  After all, he could have gotten that from Friday, or anyone else that was there.</p><p>He didn’t respond; he just waited there returning her hostile gaze with as impassive a gaze as he could manage.</p><p>“They did,” she said finally.  “Now leave.”</p><p>Again, he failed to take advantage of her invitation.  “That’s always how it seems to go when Gamora’s on the other side isn’t it?” Steve asked, as if thinking out loud.  Nebula squared her body against his, as if preparing for a fight.  Steve forced himself to remain where he was. </p><p>“Get. To. The. Point,” Nebula demanded, instilling each word individually with threat.</p><p>“Don’t get me wrong,” he said placatingly.  “I have a hard time when Bucky’s the one on the other side, myself.”</p><p>“It’s not the same thing,” Nebula insisted, adding a touch of venom to her voice.</p><p>“Bucky and I are as much brothers as you and Gamora,” Steve replied with fake defensiveness.</p><p>“It’s.  Not.  The.  Same,” Nebula</p><p>Steve decided he’d probably strung this out as far as he could get away with.  “Then why do you always lose to Gamora?” Steve asked bluntly.</p><p>“Did it never occur to you that she was the better fighter?” Nebula asked as if speaking to a slow child.</p><p><em>Think like Tony</em>.  “No, that possibility escaped us,” Steve said sarcastically.</p><p>“I’m not surprised,” Nebula said, very unsarcastically.</p><p>“That was sarcasm,” Steve replied, adding just a hint of steel to his voice.  “You’ve been letting her win,” he accused.</p><p>“Like I care about your moronic brawls,” she growled.</p><p>“Oh, I’d say you care quite strongly for them,” Steve replied evenly.  “You hate them so much you end every combat as quickly as possible.  Except when you face Gamora,” he ended pointedly.</p><p>“That’s your evidence?” Nebula asked, making it clear she thought his conclusion was the most idiotic thing she’d heard since ‘we can succeed against Thanos if we cooperate’.  “That she has to win?  Does it give you more comfort when I win against you?”</p><p>“Interesting how you put that,” Steve observed calmly, refusing to be sidetracked into defending his manliness “that she <em>had</em> to win.  Not that she should have won, or was the better fighter, but that she wanted it more.  What would have happened if you’d wanted it more, I wonder.”</p><p>“That’s ridiculous,” Nebula said, sounding not quite as sure of herself as a moment ago.</p><p>“Is it?” Steve countered.  “When you fight any of us you go full bore.  You end the fight with as little wasted energy as possible.  You break things, you break people.”  He took a breath, calming himself.  It had always bothered him just how hard she went at it.  But, after consideration, he’d decided to let it go.  The infirmary was fully capable of fixing the damage she did, and any attempt to alter her behavior had a good chance of melting the glue tenuously holding the three or four separate groups on this boat together. </p><p>“But, when you face Gamora you falter, you miss clear opportunities,” he continued.  “You’re fight times go from mere seconds to minutes.  And you lose.  It’s the only time you lose.”</p><p>“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nebula replied as menacingly as possible.</p><p>Steve seemed to consider that for a moment.  He knew he was pushing things with her, that his next statement might just push her into attacking him.  But he was close to something; he could feel it.</p><p>“How’d you get that gash you just repaired?” he asked.  Nebula blinked before glancing involuntarily at the metal arm she’d just repaired.  “Gamora got through your guard again didn’t she?” he not quite guessed.</p><p>Her eyes narrowed.  “I thought you said you didn’t see the end of the fight.”</p><p>“I didn’t, but I’ll take that as a yes,” Steve said evenly.  He cocked his head again.  “Strange considering we just watched you disarm one of the legendary Valkyrie with four thousand plus years of experience in five seconds flat.  Yet you couldn’t disarm your sister in five plus minutes,” he added, letting that thought trail off. </p><p>Nebula glanced from him to her arm, as if looking for some defense.  Steve watched the flickering emotions on her face closely.  She was clearly surprised at the accusation, but there was something else too; it was as if she’d been completely unaware of her actions.  As he watched she began to look more and more like a cornered animal. </p><p>She just needed that one more push to tip her over into telling the truth.</p><p>“There’s no mistaking it; you <em>are</em> letting her win,” he said.  “And I want to know why.”</p><p>Nebula snapped out of it, and looked directly at him.  “If Gamora finds out I’ll kill you,” she said quickly.</p><p>Steve chose to ignore the threat.  “So, you have been laying off,” he said.</p><p>Nebula blinked, as if the logic of her last statement had finally caught up and smacked her on the nose.  For a moment she seemed at a loss for words.  She fell back on the tried and true.  “Get, out,” she said, taking a step to the side to grasp the back of one of the chairs in the room.</p><p>Steve eyed that chair.  It may have weighed fifty pounds but he had no doubt that she could swing it one handed without issue.  His right hand itched to reach behind himself for his shield.  He did his best to ignore it.</p><p>Besides, something about that last interchange was nagging at his consciousness.  She’d displayed genuine surprise at having admitted that she’d been letting Gamora win, more so than if she’d simply slipped up.  The accusation itself seemed to have caught her off guard.</p><p>As he concentrated on those responses something else became evident; fear.  Beneath the surprise, beneath the anger there had been fear.</p><p>And now that he thought about it, the threat that followed had come too quick, as if it were an automated response.  As if the fear of being caught laying off was so long standing as to have created an almost instinctual set of responses.  How long had she been doing this?  And why?</p><p>“You didn’t even realize you were doing it, did you?” Steve said, just a touch of awe in his voice.  Nebula looked away, almost as if she were embarrassed.  “How long?” Steve pressed her.  At first, she didn’t respond.  Steve waited calmly, watching her. </p><p>Eventually she realized that he wasn’t going away until she answered.  Her options were to attack, try to drive him out, or answer.  And she suddenly felt so tired.</p><p>Besides, she admitted to herself, a small part of her wanted someone to know.  But only a small part.  “Does it matter?” she asked, still focusing on the wall over the dresser.</p><p>“That long?” Steve asked.  There was no response.  “Why?” he asked curiously.  Her mouth opened to speak, and for a moment it looked like she might actually respond.  But she couldn’t bring herself to admit what he already knew.  She’d spent too many years hiding the secrets he so casually aired.</p><p>Steve watched her with a growing sense of awe.  Nebula had spent her life protecting Gamora from Thanos.  She didn’t need to confirm it.  He knew.  Every fight she’d lost had been deliberate.  Every punishment she’d received had been purchased.  Every mutilation had been acceptable.</p><p>He’d often wondered how Gamora had managed to survive her childhood without becoming a monster.  He never would have guessed that it was because Nebula had become the monster for her.</p><p>He tried to put himself in her place.  Many people said he was the best of humanity.  He always did the right thing.  But could he have done what she’d done?  Could he have sacrificed not just happiness, but his own body for another?  And not just once, but over and over as his body was slowly mutilated?  For years?</p><p>He didn’t think so.  He didn’t know how anyone could. </p><p>She had. </p><p>“What?” Nebula snapped, dragging his attention back to the present.  He looked up to see her glaring at him.  He flushed slightly as he realized his face had been betraying his thoughts.</p><p>He took a breath and tried to assign words to what he was feeling.  “It’s just that, I’ve never met anyone so . . .” he said, trailing off as language suddenly failed him.</p><p>“What; stupid, childish, sentimental?” she asked bitterly.</p><p>Steve shook his head.  “Beautiful,” he said firmly.</p><p>“Beautiful?!” Nebula snarled as she strode across the intervening space.  “You call <em>this</em> beautiful?” she demanded, thrusting her cerebral implant up to his face.  She watched him, waiting for the lie.  Any moment he’d tell her it was.  Then she’d tear him into pieces for trying to play with her, for lying to her.</p><p>“No,” Steve replied, calmly reaching up to turn her face towards him.  “But bearing that for another is a beauty beyond words.”</p><p>Nebula froze in incomprehension.  If there’d been any hesitation on his part, or any sign of deceit she’d have been able to convince herself he was messing with her head.  But there was none.  In its place were things she’d never seen in anyone looking at her.  Where most people showed fear and revulsion at looking at her, his face showed nothing but awe and admiration.  As his expression sank in, she all but threw herself into him, into this thing she’d never thought she could have.</p><p>For it was not given to monsters to know acceptance, nor respect.</p><p>Nor love.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Steve let himself into the hallway as quietly as possible.  A part of him had wanted to wake Nebula, to let her know he’d be back, but he’d decided to let her sleep.  He’d never seen her looking so peaceful before.   And, given what her cerebral implant was doing to her, he was perfectly contented to let her sleep as long as possible.</p><p>If she awoke while he was gone, she’d no doubt think he’d just been using her.  As strong as she was in some ways, she was very brittle in others.  And honestly, he wasn’t sure waking her himself would have gone any better.</p><p>He’d lay there next to her for some time feeling the back and forth tug of war.  He didn’t want her to think he was just another person using her, even if only for a few minutes.  And lord knew she was a stubborn one.  Once she’d decided he was using her it would be very hard to convince her otherwise.</p><p>But he couldn’t exactly rule out the possibility that waking her before leaving wouldn’t leave her with the exact same conclusion.</p><p>In the end his bladder had cast the final vote in the form of a filibuster.  Or an ultimatum, he wasn’t really sure which.  It’s hard to think with a full bladder.  Besides, he was just planning on making a two-stop circuit; first the head, then the mess.  Odds were, he’d be back before she woke up, and with food.</p><p>“You have fun?” a venomous voice asked from the shadows of the corridor as he latched the door.  Steve turned to see Gamora lounging against a bulkhead.  From the looks of things, she’d been there for some time.</p><p>The statement was an obvious trap.  If he said yes, he’d confirm that what had passed between himself and Nebula was just a bit of fun, that he’d been using Nebula.  If he said no, he was a manipulative coward. </p><p>Steve refused to play that game.  “I’m really not sure how to respond to that,” he said, starting down the corridor. </p><p>As he came abreast of the green woman she struck.  She started with a lightning fast hook to his jaw.  The short travel time made it impossible for him to block.  There was barely enough time for him to roll with the strike, thus saving his jaw from being fractured. </p><p>Her attack may not have broken any bones, but it was enough to throw him off balance.  Gamora never let him regain it.  As he stumbled, she stepped closer and threw him against a bulkhead.</p><p>He came to being pressed -back first- into a bulkhead, one of Stark’s fancy new neutronium blades pressed against his throat.</p><p>“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” Gamora hissed venomously.  “But you stay away from my sister.”  A part of Steve’s mind couldn’t help but wonder if all of Thanos’s children had to take a class on how to threaten people as sinisterly as possible.  The rest was becoming incredibly angry; for some reason her statement had struck something deep within him.  He wasn’t sure why it pissed him off so much, but it did.</p><p>He considered overpowering her; experience had proven out that they were fairly equal as fighters.  He was stronger, but she was faster.  And in pressing close to maximize her intimidation factor she had forfeited most of her advantage.  It was very tempting, but he managed to force that down.</p><p>“She’s a big girl,” he said instead.</p><p>Gamora pushed the blade slightly closer to his throat.  “I won’t let you manipulate her,” Gamora replied, eyes afire.</p><p>Steve’s flashed to match.  Now he knew what about Gamora’s statements had pissed him off.  Gamora had benefited from Nebula’s constant sacrifices for years.  She wouldn’t be the person she was without her sister.  And here she was suggesting that the only reason he’d have anything to do with her was to use her or manipulate her.  That she wasn’t worthy or deserving of what had passed between them.</p><p>Steve never really thought about his next action.  One moment Gamora had him pinned to the wall, knife at his throat.  The next, he’d grasped her wrist and twisted the knife up to her throat.  He pushed off of the wall, pivoted and slammed Gamora’s back into the wall he’d been up against.</p><p>“Of course, that has to be it,” he whispered savagely, face bare inches from hers.  “It couldn’t be that I’ve seen something in her, something you’ve never taken the time to notice.  It couldn’t be that she’s . . .” he started before trailing off.  Not for a lack of words, but from a realization of where those words would lead.</p><p>Nebula had asked him not to tell Gamora.  Well, technically she’d threatened him.  He wasn’t worried about that threat; he doubted she’d actually carry through.  But that didn’t change the fact that this was her secret, not his.  He might think of it as a mistake to keep, but that made no difference. </p><p>So instead he pushed himself away from Gamora, gave her one final glare, and continued down the corridor.  He slammed the knife into the nearest bulkhead up to the hilt without altering stride.</p><p>“Couldn’t be that she’s what?” Gamora called from behind him, feeling her throat.</p><p>Steve stopped part way down the corridor.  He almost told her right then.  But he refused to betray Nebula.  Lord knew she’d had enough betrayal in her lifetime.</p><p>Yet, he knew he couldn’t just leave things as they were.  He couldn’t give Gamora the truth, but he might be able to give her half of it. </p><p>“There is a light burning inside your sister,” he said quietly, without turning.  “It burns so brightly, that everything that monster did could only dim it,” he finished.  He started back down the hall, before he said anything more. </p><p>Gamora remained silent behind him, a slightly puzzled look on her face.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Nebula had many dreams, but the last was the only one she remembered.  It was the dream, that dream.</p><p>It was the memory.</p><p>She’d dreamt this dream so many times.  Little details changed each time, but no matter how she yearned for it, nothing could change what had happened that day.</p><p>Six months after ‘joining’ Thanos’s family it had finally happened, the one thing she’d dreaded more than anything else.  Thanos had matched her against her own brother.</p><p>She still remembered stepping through the doors of one of the pits on the coliseum deck and seeing him for the first time since that horror had begun.  At first, she hadn’t recognized him.  Neither of them had looked much like they had the last time they’d met; both were sporting several ‘upgrades’.  It had been a shock to see her older brother, her protector looking that way.  It had also been a reminder of how she looked.</p><p>Worst of all, Thanos and Corvus Glaive were watching their match from above.  There was usually someone watching her fights from the deck the innumerable fighting pits were sunken into.  Rarely were there two.  Never had Thanos taken direct interest.  At first, she’d thought he was just there to make sure they fought.</p><p>And they were fighting; they’d learned long ago that refusal was not a good option.  But to say that their hearts were in it would have been stretching things.  They were, after all, brother and sister.  More than that though, they were all they had of their former lives.</p><p>They’d broken apart for the fourth or fifth time when Nebula heard Corvus’s recommendation, thanks to her cerebral implant’s audio enhancing features.</p><p>“I highly recommend you terminate both of their training,” he said in a manner commiserate with ordering dinner.  “Neither of them will ever be useful to you.”</p><p>“I disagree,” Thanos rumbled.  “The brother may never amount to more than a slightly mobile punching bag, but he will do fine as an object lesson.”</p><p>“And Nebula?” Corvus asked.</p><p>“Nebula shows the greatest natural fighting talent I have ever found,” Thanos replied.  “It is something that cannot be trained.  One day she will be the greatest of all of my children.  I will not give that up.”</p><p>“Sire, she will never fully cooperate,” Corvus replied, trying his best to mask the resentfulness Thanos’s comment had enkindled.  “She is simply too empathic.  Her actions during her bouts with Gamora should be proof enough of that,” he added flippantly.</p><p>Thanos cast a glare at Corvus.  “Do not presume to tell me what I am and am not capable of,” he growled, causing his general’s fact to pale.</p><p>“Sire, I meant no disrespect,” Corvus groveled, face pointed at the deck in contrition even as his resentment for Nebula swelled.</p><p>“Perhaps it is time to remind you of who sits at the head of this family,” Thanos said thoughtfully.  Corvus knew better than to respond to that trap.  No argument or plea had ever been effective at forestalling punishment.</p><p>“Yes father,” Corvus replied eventually.  Best to just get it over with.  Nebula had found a grim satisfaction at the thought of their task master being punished, but she’d done her best to hide it.  No doubt he’d take it out on her either way, but she saw no reason to invite reprisal.</p><p>“But that can wait for later,” Thanos stated, still as if just talking out loud to himself.  “For now, rest assured Nebula will fall into line.”</p><p>“May I ask how exactly you intend to break her?” Corvus asked in a voice equal parts respectful and fearful. </p><p>Thanos savored that sound for a moment before replying.  “I won’t break her,” he said matter-of-factly.  “She’s going to break herself.”</p><p>Corvus’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “Sire, I don’t understand.”</p><p>“You see Nebula’s empathy as a set of wings that would free her from my will.  In fact, it shall be the very thing that chains her to it.”</p><p>“How?” Corvus asked.</p><p>“Simple,” Thanos told him, looking down at the pathetic fight in the pit.  “Nebula will kill her brother, right here, right now.”</p><p>“And if she refuses?” Corvus asked.</p><p>“Then I will kill Gamora.”</p><p>Nebula froze as those words made it to her.  Kill her brother?  She couldn’t.  She wouldn’t.  He was her brother.  And yet, for reasons she could not explain she could not condemn Gamora either.</p><p>Seeing her momentary indecision her brother attacked.  It was a sloppy, haphazard attack.  It was more the attack that he was required to make than an attack he wished to make.  Nebula beat it off with ease, never losing focus on her sudden moral quandary.</p><p>This decision should be easy.  He was her brother.  How many times had he shielded her from her father’s temper?  How many beatings had he taken to spare her and their mother that treatment? </p><p>And what had Gamora ever done for her; let Nebula <em>let</em> her win?  Let Nebula take far worse punishments than her brother ever had for her?</p><p>No, she wouldn’t.  Gamora didn’t deserve to be protected.  She certainly wasn’t worth her brother’s life.  She wouldn’t kill him.</p><p>As that internal struggle resolved itself Nebula’s attention snapped back to the present, to see that she almost had.  Without even thinking about it she’d knocked her brother to the ground.  At that very moment she was poised over him, artificial arm held over her head ready to strike.  Ready to kill her brother.</p><p>She followed his gaze up to that metallic fist in horror at what she’d almost done, what she’d been prepared to do.  Her eyes locked on it, on the symbol of everything she’d endured.</p><p> “Do it,” her brother whispered, drawing her attention back downward.</p><p>She nodded, hearing both what he’d said and the way he’d said it.  There was a note of plea in his voice, in his eyes.  She had no idea what he’d been through already, but he was sporting three more augments than she was.  As she stared at him, she realized that was her fault.  She’d brought this on him.</p><p>Most ‘recruits’ didn’t survive more than a week without breaking.  Many simply continued breaking, going utterly insane.  Those were executed.  Those that could not fight were executed.  Nebula had often wished they’d do the same to her, even as the fear of punishment pushed her forward.  Pushed her to hurt others.</p><p>But her brother, her brother was too empathic.  He would never have made a fighter.  He would have been executed too.  But he hadn’t.  Now she knew why; for this moment.</p><p>So she could kill him.</p><p>She recoiled at that.  Pure stubbornness, the very stubbornness that had seen her to this point, demanded that she refuse.  To hell with the consequences, she was not going to kill her brother. </p><p>“You heard him, Stish,” her brother prompted, using her birth name, a name from before the nightmare.   Yet she hesitated.  “It’s going to happen anyway.”</p><p>Nebula shook her head.  “I can’t,” she whispered.  “I won’t,” she added, fist unclenching, arm falling back to the ground.  And she meant it.  At that moment in time nothing would have convinced her to change her mind.</p><p>But moments in time were just that; they don’t last.  Something always moves things along.  A change of scenery, a change of feeling, new information.  It could be anything that would change the moment.  But something always does.</p><p>In this case it was just four syllables.  “Kill Gamora,” Thanos ordered Corvus without looking.  Suddenly Nebula knew why she couldn’t let that happen, why she’d been ready to kill her brother just moments ago.</p><p>She’d suffered so much to protect Gamora.  At first it hadn’t even been a conscious choice, just a reaction.  But that didn’t matter anymore.  What mattered was that if Gamora died then everything Nebula had suffered would be wasted.  Everything she’d endured would be pointless.  The thought of that was terrifying.</p><p>It was even more terrifying than becoming a monster.</p><p>“Yes, sire,” Corvus replied before turning about face and marching from the pit.  As his footfalls grew quieter Nebula’s arm came back up.  Again, it hovered above her head, as if being held back by an unseen force.</p><p>“Make it count,” her brother whispered, eyes on the instrument of his deliverance.  Gamora nodded, and her arm fell.</p><p>She made sure the first blow killed him instantly.  But she wasn’t done.  She should have realized Thanos wouldn’t let her off that easily.</p><p>As she removed her arm from her brother’s face the same repair protocols Thanos had installed in her began to reconstruct the damage.  She stared in horror as the realization that she would have to kill her brother over and over flooded her with an even greater horror.</p><p>But she’d made her decision.  And he’d made his.  There was no going back at this point.</p><p>Her arm raised and fell again.  Then again, and again.  Then the other arm joined the first.  She howled in rage and loathing as she continued over and over again to beat her brother. </p><p>She pounded the body of her brother long after the repair protocols had become too damaged to function.  Her organic fist was a bloody mass of bruised flesh and broken bones and still she pounded.  Her brother’s head became a mass of mush that barely impeded her falling limbs and still she pounded.  Pounded and howled.  Howled and pounded.</p><p>Over and over, until she passed out.</p><p>When she came to, she found herself back in her cell.  But instead of the bare floor she’d slept on since her arrival she found herself lying on a new bed.  Her right hand had been healed while she was asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Nebula woke from the dream/memory as fast as she could.  She took a shuddering breath as she tried to shake off those memories and started to get up.</p><p>She froze as the argument in the corridor outside her room registered.  She heard Gamora ask “Couldn’t be that she’s what?”  Then came Steve’s response, so quietly delivered she almost couldn’t make out the words.</p><p>But she could make them out.  And, try as she might, she simply couldn’t make herself believe them.  It had been a pleasant fiction to believe for a moment that she wasn’t a monster.  But that’s all it had been.  Nothing could ever change what she’d done, what she was.</p><p>In some ways, the worst part was that she knew he truly did believe she wasn’t just that.  As misguided and ignorant as he was, he truly believed what he’d said.  She couldn’t even get angry with him.  But nor could she agree with him.  He didn’t know all the horrible things she’d done in her life; she did. </p><p>And the memory she’d just woken from was but a spark in a supernova.</p><p>She got out of bed to dress.  He’d be back soon, if for no other reason than to prove that he hadn’t been using her.  She knew that wasn’t the case.  But she also knew he was wrong about her.</p><p>Oh, she could play at being the abused angel he so clearly thought she was.  It would certainly be easier than admitting to the monster she truly was.  He’d seen only a very small part of her.  He had no idea what she was capable of.  He had no idea the horrors she’d personally committed.</p><p>More to the point, he trusted her aim.  She knew how foolish that was.  She’d eventually end up killing him.  She killed everyone.  It was what she was good at.  Not for the first time, she cursed the part of herself that had made her such an effective fighter.  Not for the first time, she wished she’d died in the attack on her planet with her family.</p><p>She was dressed and sitting in an arm chair she’d strategically placed at the opposite end of the room from the door when Steve returned.</p><p>The first sign of his return was the slow rotation of the door’s lever.  A flash of anger wafted through Nebula’s being at the implied intimacy of entering her quarters without permission, even as she admitted it wasn’t the first time.  She’d had to stop herself from killing him then.</p><p>The door came open far enough for him to see her sitting across the room, waiting for him.  He was carrying two trays of food, one in his hand, the other balanced on his forearm.  He almost stepped into the room, but her gaze seemed to pin him in place.  Everything about her posture, position, and expression was hostility.</p><p>They both stared at each other awkwardly, Nebula’s patented hard-as-obsidian glare meeting Steve’s more concerned gaze.</p><p>Finally, Steve cleared his throat.  “Sorry,” he apologized.  “I’d hoped to return before you woke up.”</p><p>Nebula let that statement fall into an uncomfortable silence before responding.  “Why?” she asked coldly.</p><p>Steve seemed taken aback by the one syllable question.  He glanced at the ruffled bed, the sight of their previous . . . interaction.  Think like Tony.  The thought ran through his head again.</p><p>“Well, I figured I owed you a meal at least,” he quipped, turning his attention back to the blue woman.</p><p>“Great, you’ve brought it,” Nebula said.  “You can leave.”</p><p>Steve paused again.  He wasn’t sure what to say.  He wasn’t exactly sure what this encounter would bring.  He’d considered her pushing him away as the most likely outcome.  Yet it hadn’t seemed real.  Now it was. </p><p>But he couldn’t just leave.  He had a fairly good idea what was going on in her head.  But he’d seen past her rough augmented exterior to the person underneath.  She could try to convince herself that the exterior was all there was.  He knew better.  And he would not leave her to think that was all she was.</p><p>He filled the silence by setting one of the trays on the table next to the door.  As he did so he noticed that his shield had been propped against one of its legs.  He did his best to pretend he hadn’t seen it, instead turning back to her.</p><p>“I understand,” he said at last.  “But I need you to know that last night wasn’t a mistake.”</p><p>“Then you’re a fool,” Nebula replied.  If her previous levels of bluntness had been a meteor strike this was more on the order of a planetary collision.</p><p>Now it was Steve’s turn to be blunt; “Why?” he asked.</p><p>Nebula’s upper lip twitched ever so slightly at the question.  “You judge others via your own motivations.”</p><p>Steve shook his head.  “No judgement of mine will change what you’ve been doing for Gamora all these years,” he said.</p><p>Nebula’s lip twitched again, this time in a more obvious sign of disgust.  “Get out,” she uttered menacingly.  Steve opened his mouth to point out that she was avoiding the issue, but a memory long passed reared up and smacked him on the nose.  </p><p>It was a couple of years before he’d managed to get into the Army, back when he was still in high school.  There’d been girl who’d taken an interest in him.  Amy Patrell.  He’d been so certain that her interest had been motivated by pity that he’d continually pushed her away.  The harder she tried the harder he’d pushed.</p><p>Since his ascendance he’d often wondered if she hadn’t seen something -perhaps something one German scientist had also seen a couple years later- in him.  What if she’d truly liked him for who he was?  He’d wondered how his life would have been different if he’d accepted her interest as genuine.  Would they have gotten married?  Had kids?  A life?  He never would have become Captain America, but sometimes he wondered if the trade might have been worth it. </p><p>He snapped back to the present, finding himself staring at Nebula’s increasingly enraged face.  He knew that look.  She wouldn’t listen, just as he hadn’t listened to Amy.  And the harder he pressed her, the harder she’d work to convince herself that she was just the monster Thanos had created.</p><p>He wouldn’t do that to her.</p><p>“Alright,” he said, slowly reaching down to grab his shield.  “But if you need to talk, you know where to find me,” he added before turning to leave.</p><p>“I won’t,” Nebula declared.</p><p>Steve sighed.  “Has it occurred to you,” he asked without turning “that, were you the evil monster you’re so certain you are, you’d be perfectly happy using me until I stopped being useful to you?”</p><p>Nebula paused.  When she spoke again it was on a different subject.  “If Gamora finds out . . .” she repeated, leaving the rest of the obvious threat open for imagination.</p><p>Steve’s head twisted around to pierce her with a look of utter compassion.  “I rest my case,” he said softly, before kicking the door closed.</p><p>Nebula closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, trying to calm down.  Her heart was racing.  Her brain was flitting from one thought to another like a hummingbird on a caffeine overdose.  And it was taking all of her self-control to keep from hyperventilating.</p><p>She hadn’t felt like this in years, not since her early training.  At least then she’d known why she was so frightened.  But this was . . . something else.  She tried to trace the source of the feeling, but couldn’t.  She knew it had something to do with Steve’s last words; that much was easy to figure out.  But why had his words affected her like this?  She’d heard far worse things from far worse people most of her life.  Their threats and insults had always rolled off of her like rain.</p><p>As the source of that feeling failed to resolve she became irritated.  She focused on that irritation, pushing those other feelings to the background.  Her irritation shifted to Steve for causing her distress.  Her heart and brain began to slow down.  Maintaining her breathing became easier.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. On Worthiness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Statesman</p><p>Outside Nebula’s Quarters</p><p> </p><p>Steve suddenly didn’t feel like eating; he didn’t feel like anything really.  He dumped his food, tray and all, in the nearest trash can.  No doubt his long dead mother would have had something to say about the waste of food.</p><p>He stood there, trying to decide what exactly to do.  He thought about going to see Tony before realizing that he really didn’t want to see anyone.  He thought about trying to get some sleep, but he knew he’d just toss and turn.</p><p>In the end he decided to go for a walk.</p><p>He really had no idea why he felt this way.  He knew he wasn’t love sick.  This latest revelation had given him a great deal of respect for the blue woman, but love?  That took more than one night, no matter the events thereof.</p><p>Yet, something about this latest encounter had left a tight feeling in his chest he just couldn’t identify.  It hadn’t been anything he’d ever felt before.  It wasn’t longing.  It wasn’t hurt.  It was . . . something.  Something akin to regret.</p><p>He stopped when he reached Gamora’s quarters, two decks down from Nebula’s.  He thought he’d understood why Nebula would have chosen a room so far away from her ‘sister’.  Now he knew he’d only grasped half of that equation.</p><p>Nebula took a great deal of pride in protecting Gamora.  But there was also a great deal of shame attached to that pride.  Shame in all the things she’d done to protect the green woman.  He had no idea what those things might be, but there was no doubt in his mind that Thanos had used that very protective instinct to manipulate Nebula into performing terrible acts.  Seeing Gamora’s mostly untouched body was a repetitious reminder of everything Nebula had endured, even more so than a look in the mirror.</p><p>Nebula projected her hate onto everyone, and every situation, she encountered.  But its source was rooted deeply within her disgust with herself.  She’d come to think of herself as a monster.</p><p> Steve thought about telling Gamora, despite Nebula’s wishes.  He took a step closer to the door.  He couldn’t actually think of a reason not to tell her.  In one sense, Gamora had a right to know this secret; it was as much hers as Nebula’s. </p><p>Besides he found it doubtful Nebula would actually carry through with her threats.  He had no doubt that she <em>could</em> kill him, but not for that.  She’d kill to keep herself or Gamora alive.  That was pretty much it.  With that thought he raised a closed hand to knock on the door.</p><p>It never struck.  Whatever his own feelings he realized that he could not divulge that secret.  And not because it wasn’t his, which was usually a good enough reason to keep one.  Because it would have been another betrayal of Nebula’s trust.</p><p>His arm fell as those last five words repeated themselves in his mind.  Another betrayal, suggesting that he’d already betrayed her once.  He forced himself to turn and keep moving.  Lord knew the last thing he needed was for Gamora to exit her room to find him standing there. </p><p>He continued down the hallway, lost in those five words.  Had he taken advantage of Nebula?  It hadn’t felt like it at the time.  It had felt . . . right.  Now he wasn’t so sure.</p><p>A large metallic crash interrupted his moralizing.  His head snapped to the hatch leading to the lab.  His first thought was that one of Tony’s acetylene torches had exploded, but the sound didn’t quite match.  As he thought about it, he realized it had actually been a pair of sounds.  Sounds like some great force had been exerted on metal objects.</p><p>Like the sound of one of Tony’s suits being hit into a wall.</p><p>Before he realized it, he was at the hatch, shield at the ready.  He briefly considered calling for backup, but if they had an intruder on board seconds could count.  Besides, if that sound were Tony’s suit being thrown against the wall, he’d need help and now.</p><p>Then again, he’d have thought Friday would rouse the entire ship if Tony was fighting intruders.  Without another thought Steve hit the hatch release and dove into the room, shield up.</p><p>Quill and Tony turned in unison at his action sequence entrance.  The looks of surprise on their faces quickly shifted to that of amusement.</p><p>“Well, there he is,” Quill said mingling amusement and wariness.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Steve asked, raising from his crouch.  He threw a confused look at Quill.</p><p>“I had an idea last night on how to make Peter’s guns project force,” Tony explained.</p><p>Steve glanced around.  “If your making modifications to galactic tech shouldn’t Rocket be here?” he asked.</p><p>“Seems to work fine,” Peter replied, turning back to the remaining targets.  They were basically just large slabs of metal, the refuse from making the coliseum.  Steve noted that three of the targets were already imbedded in the wall.</p><p>A condition quickly shared by its nearest mate as Quill fired again.  A pulse of barely visible energy launched itself from the gun.  On impact the target cartwheeled into the wall.</p><p>“Alright, that’s enough fun,” Tony said, hand out.  Quill glanced from the blaster to the open hand hesitantly, before finally surrendering the sidearm.</p><p>“What are you going to do?” he asked as Tony accepted the weapon.</p><p>“Tear it down.  Check for signs of extraordinary wear,” he said tersely.  “Mind giving me a hand?” he asked Steve before striding to the nearest bench.</p><p>Steve’s brow furrowed in suspicion.  Tony had never asked for his help with any of his gadgets before, and he highly doubted he needed it now.  But he followed anyway.</p><p>“Hey, what about this one?” Quill asked, holding up the other blaster.</p><p>“Stress test it,” Tony said as he stepped up to the bench.  “Aim at the target shield.”</p><p>“The what?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Friday?” Tony asked with a quick glance at the ceiling.</p><p>“If you will look to your left,” Friday’s voice answered from the overhead.  Quill turned to see a set of four devices set into a framework forming a one-meter square.  As he looked a blue light flashed on each of the devices in unison.  They flashed three times before remaining lit.</p><p>“You may fire when ready,” Friday stated.  The room was quickly filled with the different, yet related, sounds of Quill’s blaster firing and the impact with the shield.  The first was a cross between an electric arc and a gong.  The second sounded very much like bacon being applied to a hot pan.  The first few shots were tentative, with space between them.  But as Quill’s confidence in the shield improved, they began coming closer and closer together.</p><p>“Gal-tech is a little weird,” Tony explained softly to Steve as Quill’s firing reached the state of trigger happy.  “A lot of times it takes three hands to get it apart.  Well, so you can put it back together again anyways,” he added with a half shrug.</p><p>“Why weren’t you using the shield before,” Steve asked.</p><p>“It doesn’t exactly give you an idea of how well the device is working,” Tony explained.  “Hold that,” he added, gesturing at a piece of the grip with a nod of his head.</p><p>“Couldn’t you use sensors for that?” Steve asked as he moved to comply.</p><p>“No, not like that,” Tony said.  “Hold it like a C-clamp.  There you go,” he added as Steve adjusted his grip.  He moved his hands to pinch two sections under the weapon’s aperture.  “Sensors would be ideal,” he added, addressing Steve’s last query “I haven’t had time to design them yet.”</p><p>Steve’s eyes narrowed.  “Couldn’t you have had Friday do that?” he asked.</p><p>“She’s a bit busy double checking the designs on the dozen or so weapons we’ve been building, analyzing the fights from your gladiator games, helping Banner run the dispensary, rebuilding my suits, and half a dozen other things.  Not to mention babying this whale back to Earth.  Alright, press and pull down on your end,” he added.  “But like a normal human, not a super soldier, if you please,” he added.  “Last time I asked Thor to help; I ended up having to fabricate a new casing.”  Steve grinned.</p><p>“There we go,” Tony said as the weapon came apart.  “Besides,” he continued “I designed my AIs to facilitate design not take it over,” he added, taking the pieces and laying them out on bench in front of him.</p><p>“What’s that mean; they have no volition?” Steve asked, stepping to a spot that gave him a view of what Tony was doing without getting in the way.  Not that he actually knew what he was looking at or what the engineer was doing to it. </p><p>“It’s not that they have no volition,” Tony replied as he continued disassembly.  “They can take an order and expand intelligently upon it, and they can take care of all the repetitive grunt work.  They just don’t generate their own tasks.  It’s hard to create something new without that capacity.”</p><p>“Sounds like a design flaw,” Steve observed.</p><p>“Or a safeguard,” Tony replied pointedly.</p><p>“Are you that worried about your AIs going rogue?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Let’s just say I’d rather not take the chance,” Tony replied.  “One Ultron was enough,” he added quietly.</p><p>“Tony, you can’t hold yourself accountable for that,” Steve replied.</p><p>“As I recall you also held me accountable for that,” Tony replied offhandedly, eyes focused on his examination of the inner workings of the blaster.</p><p>Steve winced.  “I was wrong,” he said bluntly.  “Hell, Vision proves you were right.  You had no way of knowing what would happen.”</p><p>Tony glanced quickly at Steve.  “It’s a bit of a moot point isn’t it?” he asked.  “Whatever I thought might happen does not change the result.  It was my neglect that created Ultron.  Just like-” he started before cutting himself off.</p><p>“Just like with Obadiah?” Steve finished for him.  Tony’s upper lip curled automatically at the invocation of that name.  His head twitched, as if he were trying to work a crick out of his neck.  He placed his hands on the workbench, as if he suddenly couldn’t support his own weight.  His eyes were those of someone reliving a nightmare, or mistake.</p><p>Or a failure.</p><p>“Tony,” Steve said apologetically, reaching out to touch his friend’s shoulder.  His hand stopped halfway there, unsure of what to do.  After a moment his arm dropped.  The man didn’t want pity.  He didn’t need sympathy.  An apology would have been a waste of breath. </p><p>He needed forgiveness.  That was the one thing Steve couldn’t give.  Not one alive could.</p><p>Steve had been chasing this problem around the track for a while now.  He could see that Tony was punishing himself.  He knew it was wrong.  But he just couldn’t find a way to get Tony to see it.  No matter how hard he chased the rabbit, he never seemed to make any headway.  It didn’t help that Tony was right almost as often as he thought he was.</p><p>And now here he was, a golden opportunity to try and make his friend see and no idea what to do with it.  He thought about leaving.  He thought about yelling.  He thought about a lot of things.  Nothing seemed as if it would make any difference.  But he had to do something.</p><p>In the end, he went for the straight forward approach.  “Tony,” he said quietly into the silence “you’ve got to let that go.”</p><p>Stark’s face twisted.  “Just forget about it,” he grated.  “Delete those people from memory, just as I did from the world?”</p><p>“You didn’t kill them,” Steve said in earnest.  “Obadiah killed them.  The people that used the weapons <em>he</em> sold killed them.  You-” he started to add before Tony slammed an open drawer closed so hard it sprang back out.  Tools clattered unnoticed to the floor. </p><p>“And not one of them could have killed anyone if I hadn’t trusted the wrong person!” he growled, turning an almost feral glare on Steve.  The look didn’t last long; its fire was extinguished by the calm compassion on Steve’s face.  Tony turned back to bracing against the workbench.</p><p>“It just keeps going,” he continued, as if he couldn’t stop.  As if a spillway had broken down. “I try to make it right.  Everything keeps getting worse.  First Gulmira, then New York and Sokovia.  Wanda, Peter, Thor . . . Rhodey,” he added, barely getting that last out.  He turned to look at Steve.  “I almost killed you,” he added bitterly.</p><p>“You see, that right there,” Steve said heatedly.  “That’s the problem.  You think you’re the only responsible person on the team.  I knew exactly what I was doing <em>when I provoked you</em>.  You don’t get to take responsibility for my choices.  You don’t get to take responsibility for anyone’s choices but your own.”</p><p>Tony turned an incredulous expression on him.  “So, you were trying to get me to kill you?” he asked.</p><p>Steve gave a half shrug.  “Not exactly.”</p><p>“Then what were you doing?”</p><p>“You needed a punching bag,” Steve said matter-of-factly.</p><p>Tony scowled.  “What?” he demanded.</p><p>“Look,” he said cautiously “after Rhodes’s . . . you needed someone to take your frustrations out on.  Otherwise you’d have taken it out on yourself.  Like you always do.”</p><p>“So, you let me beat you nearly to death?” Tony asked, aghast.</p><p>“Well no,” Steve said with just a touch of embarrassment.  “You’ve gotten a lot better since we parted company.”</p><p>“You’ve certainly given me enough practice,” Tony replied offhandedly.</p><p>“My point, Tony,” Steve replied “is that that was my choice.  Just like it was Obadiah’s choice to sell your weapons to terrorists.  Just like it was Loki’s choice to attack New York; and Ultron’s choice to attack Sokovia.  Just like it was Peter’s and Rhodes’s choices to place themselves in the line of fire.”</p><p>Steve took a breath.  “Maybe we could have done a better job in those instances, I don’t know,” he continued.  “But we did the best we could at the time.  And we did it as a team.  You don’t get to assume full responsibility for all of our failings.”</p><p>“Someone has to,” Tony replied bluntly.</p><p>“Damn it, Tony,” Steve snapped.  “You are not the only person that hurts when we fail.  We just channel it into something productive.  We try to learn from our mistakes.  We use our failures to push us to be better next time out.  Just because we don’t act like spoiled brats doesn’t mean we don’t care.”</p><p>Tony rolled his eyes.  “It always comes back to the money,” he said bitterly.</p><p>“No,” Steve replied, holding one hand up in a ‘stop’ signal.  “It’s got nothing to do with your father’s money.  You grew up in a binary environment.  The circuit, the program, the construct; they were either right or wrong.  There was no in between.  And if it was wrong you could always fix it, couldn’t you?”</p><p>Tony nodded.</p><p>“But the world isn’t a binary solution set,” Steve continued.  “It’s not black and white.  It’s a thousand shades of grey.  And, more often than not, mistakes are final.  You can’t go back and change them.”</p><p>“You’re not suggesting I haven’t learned how to fail,” Tony replied skeptically.</p><p>“No, I’m not,” Steve replied.  “I’m suggesting that you never learned to accept that you might.”</p><p>“That’s an irrelevant distinction,” Tony said, rejecting that thought out of both hands.  On the first, even if he’d never failed while growing up (and he had) he’d had plenty of experience in it over the last several years.  And on the second, he’d never shrank from admitting he’d failed.  He’d always been first on the scene with disaster relief, doing what he could for the people he’d failed.</p><p>“No Tony, its everything,” Steve said.  “And if you can’t learn to accept it this job <em>will</em> drive you insane,” he added.  Tony gave him a look somewhere between startled and confused.</p><p>“It doesn’t matter,” he said, shifting his gaze to one wall.  “The job has to be done.”  Steve gritted his teeth.  Tony’s cycle of guilt was the only thing keeping him going.  He’d continue fighting to atone for previous failures.  But, if so much as one innocent got injured then that next fight would be counted as a failure.  A failure he’d then have to atone for as well.</p><p>It was a completely ridiculous standard, a standard he only held himself to.  But he just couldn’t see it as long as he was within the cycle.  He needed a psychiatrist, which Steve most certainly wasn’t.  The closest they had on board was a guy with incredible anger management issues.</p><p>But Steve did understand people.  At the moment that was all they had.  It would have to do.  Tony couldn’t be allowed to continue this way any longer, else he would find the only way he could see to end the cycle: his death.</p><p>Steve groped for something to say.  Some way to make his friend understand.  It wasn’t that Tony wasn’t listening, he knew.  It was hard to accept sometimes, but the man always listened.</p><p>Part of Tony’s problem lay in that others had trouble accepting that he was listening because of the number of times Tony had listened and disagreed.  Perhaps it was easier to assume he wasn’t giving you a chance than to accept that someone so intelligent had come to a different conclusion?</p><p>He’d have to give it some thought later, but he knew that wasn’t the case right now.  He knew what was going on inside his friend’s mind, almost as if he’d gained telepathic abilities.  He knew it was wrong.  But he had no idea how to make him see that.  He had to remove the filter of guilt Tony saw the world through in order for him to understand.  But he couldn’t remove the filter without making him see what was wrong.  A standard issue Catch 22.</p><p>A sudden sense of bitterness filled him as he contemplated the problem.  He turned to examine the opposite wall, trying to hide the expression that feeling had no doubt plastered all over his face.  But he was starting to think there was no way to make Tony see the truth.  He hadn’t felt this helpless since before The Procedure.</p><p>Not since high school.</p><p>Not since high school.  Those words careened around his head like billiard balls.  High school hadn’t exactly been a fun experience for him.  He’d accepted that the trials he’d endured had helped him become who he was today, but that didn’t mean he liked dwelling on it.  He’d never looked upon with fondness.</p><p>Until now.</p><p>“You know,” he said into the silence “I used to get into fights back in school.”</p><p>Tony turned, regarding Steve with a look that mingled surprise and more surprise.  Surprise at the seemingly irrelevant turn the conversation had taken.  More surprise at the thought of Steve brawling.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Tony said “weren’t you a sickly assemblage of skin and bones back then?”  Steve nodded sagely.  Tony grinned in spite of himself.  “It’s hard to imagine you fighting,” he said.</p><p>“Oh, I didn’t say I fought,” Steve corrected him, a minor grin on his face.  “I said I got into fights.”</p><p>A look of confusion crossed Tony’s face.  “I fail to see the difference.”</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “Well, if you didn’t actually land a blow, it’s more like getting beaten than fighting,” he said.</p><p>“I never would have pegged you for a masochist,” Tony observed.</p><p>“Oh, I wasn’t,” Steve assured him. </p><p>“Trying to prove how tough you were?” Tony asked.  It was clear from his tone that he didn’t really believe that was the case.  He was just out of other ideas.</p><p>Steve laughed.  “No,” he said “it’s just . . . I’d see some girl being picked on, or someone would make racist comments, or bully some kid because he was a Jew.  It was wrong.  Someone had to do something.  But no one would.  I guess I felt like I had to try.”</p><p>“Did it work?” Tony asked curiously.</p><p>Steve shrugged, thinking back.  “Not really,” he admitted.</p><p>“So, you really were proving how tough you were,” Tony replied with a quirky grin.</p><p>Steve stopped for a moment.  He’d never looked at it that way.  “I guess I was,” he said.  “And it did work for a short time.  But, after a little while, I guess they got tired of beating on me.  They’d just brush me aside and keep going after whomever they’d decided to terrorize that day.”</p><p>“Now, do you think anyone was silly enough to blame me because I couldn’t stop them?” he asked pointedly.</p><p>Stark stiffened as he realized how this little admission connected to their previous conversation.  “It’s not the same,” he said in a voice that matched his body language.</p><p>“How so?” Steve asked.</p><p>“Well, I’m assuming you didn’t create the situations you tried to stop,” Tony replied flippantly.</p><p>“Dammit Tony, neither did you!” Steve exploded.  “Not with Stane, not with Ultron.  And I defy you to rationalize how you’re responsible for Loki or Thanos’s acts,” he added.</p><p>“Maybe not Loki,” Tony said with a half shrug “but I should have . . .”</p><p>“What; been able to ascertain what a monster you had no idea existed might do with a pair of magic artifacts, only one of which you’d had any contact at all with, when you built your suits?”  Tony didn’t respond.  When Steve put it that way, there really was no logic in blaming himself.  Still, he found it difficult to put down, and he didn’t know why.</p><p>“It’s the same thing with Ultron and Stane,” Steve continued, pressing his advantage.  “You didn’t make their choices for them.  They did.”</p><p>Tony snapped back to the present.  “I empowered them,” he argued.  “Without me they could never have caused the harm they did.”</p><p>“Really?” Steve asked disbelievingly.  “Exactly how did leaving the scepter next to a computer empower you?”</p><p>“You know I was trying to do exactly what it did,” Tony snapped.</p><p>“Yeah, and I know that had you succeeded you’d have employed safeguards to ensure he couldn’t go off the reservation,” Steve replied.  “Just like you did with your AIs,” he added in a softer tone. </p><p>Again, Tony was silent.  He wanted to protest that he was still the one that had left the scepter in proximity to his computers, but he already knew what Steve would say.  He’d point out that Strucker had had the thing around computers for who knows how long, without it ever linking to them.  He’d say there was no reason to suspect there might be a component within the staff that might possess any volition.  He’d say he had no way of knowing that component might be malevolent.</p><p>He’d be wrong of course.  But, for once, Tony couldn’t say why.  So, he chose to say nothing.</p><p>“Everything that happened was Ultron’s choice not yours,” Steve pressed on.  “Just like you’re not responsible for Stane’s choices.”</p><p>Tony twitched at that.  “You can’t be sure of that,” he said.</p><p>“Really?” Steve asked, taken aback.  “You forced him to kill you?”</p><p>“Didn’t I?” Tony insisted.  “Obie was my father’s most trusted advisor, my own god father.  Then I take over the company and suddenly he’s . . . well, you know,” he finished lamely.</p><p>“Tony, sometimes people change.  Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.  Sometimes it happens without them even realizing.  They just make a choice.  And that choice leads to another.  Those lead to more.  But those are still the choices they made.  You didn’t.”</p><p>“I pushed him into making those choices,” Tony snapped, voice cracking for the first time since puberty.  “If I hadn’t taken the company back, if I’d been less pigheaded, if I hadn’t overridden his judgement as much as I did, he’d never have made them.  He’d never have . . .” he started before trailing off, eyes brimming with tears.  He wiped them on his sleeve.</p><p>“You don’t know that Tony,” Steve said softly.  “The taste of power does strange things to people.  Even if you’d let him keep the reigns, the fact that you could take the company from him could have been enough.”</p><p>Tony scoffed.  “I find it ironic that you, of all people, would buy into the false concept that absolute power corrupts absolutely.”</p><p>“I’m far from absolutely powerful,” Steve countered.</p><p>“Really; how many people could stand up to you in a physical confrontation?  Five?  Ten?”</p><p>“About that,” Steve said with a shrug.</p><p>“Do you realize you have fewer compeers in your brand of power than Stane did?” Tony insisted.  This time it was Steve’s turn to remain silent.  He’d never really considered it that way.  He’d never really considered his own corruption threshold at all.  He’d always just done whatever seemed like the best thing to do.  But now that Tony mentioned it, there were certainly a lot of people close to his capabilities that could be considered corrupt.  Brock Rumlow jumped to mind.</p><p>“No, I didn’t think so,” Tony continued.  “You know, you have got to be the only person on this ship that was something special before they gained any special abilities,” he added, somewhat in awe.</p><p>“No,” Steve said fixing Stark with a meaningful stare “there’s at least one other.”</p><p>Tony returned the look.  “You can’t possibly mean your new girlfriend,” he said.</p><p>Steve reddened.  “You heard that?” he asked.  Actually, he hadn’t; he’d meant Tony.  But now that Stark mentioned it, she probably fell into that category as well.</p><p>“I think the whole ship heard that,” Tony replied watching him closely.  “As I recall, we sent you in there to interrogate her,” he added.  Again, Steve didn’t reply.  He wasn’t even sure why he felt embarrassed, except for how loud they’d apparently been of course.</p><p>“I’ll be the last person to condemn someone for engaging in a little gland to gland combat.  I just never thought blue skinned psychotics were your thing.”</p><p>“She’s not psychotic,” Steve said quickly.  “She’s . . . a tormented angel.”  Tony gave Steve a hard look at that.  Steve returned the probe with a look of stubborn confidence.  It was easy to see that Steve truly believed what he was saying.  Tony just could not reconcile it with what he knew of the woman.</p><p>“You’re going to have to explain that to me,” Stark said.</p><p>“Alright, its . . .” Steve started, pausing as he tried to figure out where to start.  After a few seconds he started again.  “You once called me incorruptible,” he said.  Tony nodded.  “Well, ever since this mission started, I’ve been forced to ask myself how I’d have fared if I’d been drafted into Thanos’s ‘family’.”</p><p>“I’m sure we all have,” Tony said.</p><p>“And I had to accept that he’d have broken me.  He’d have broken all of us.”  Again, Tony nodded in agreement.  While he wasn’t certain Steve would have broken, he had no doubt he would have, and in short order.  “But not Nebula,” Steve continued.  “She fought him.  Her entire life she’s fought him.”</p><p>“She’s killed hundreds of innocent people,” Quill cut in.  The other two turned to look at him, suddenly realizing that the room had been absent the sounds of his blaster fire for some time.  Quill caught their meaning.  “The power cell died,” he said with a shrug.  “I didn’t want to interrupt.”</p><p>“A novel courtesy,” Tony muttered.  The other two ignored him.</p><p>“Do you imagine those people would be alive today if Nebula hadn’t killed them?” Steve asked.</p><p>Quill hesitated.  “No,” he admitted finally.  “Anyone who crosses Thanos dies.”</p><p>“What would have been the result of her refusing?” Steve asked Socratically.</p><p>“I’m sure he’d have punished her,” Quill replied, clearly unconvinced.</p><p>“No one’s questioning her pragmatism,” Tony added.  “But acceding to the inevitable in order to avoid punishment hardly makes her an angel.”</p><p>“I agree,” Steve said “but what you’re missing is that Thanos wouldn’t have punished Nebula.  Well,” he added, backtracking “he would have punished her.  But he also would have taken it out on Gamora.”  He looked from one to the other.  “She’s been protecting Gamora since they were kids,” he added.  “That’s why she was letting Gamora win in the arena; because the loser received more augments.”</p><p>“Not in our arena,” Tony pointed out.</p><p>“I think that was just a product of habit,” Steve said.  “She seemed genuinely surprised at the accusation.”</p><p>“And she told you this?” Quill asked doubtfully.</p><p>“No, getting any answer out of her was like pulling teeth,” Steve replied.  “I had to guess.”</p><p>“And how do you know your guess was right?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Because when I made it, she threatened to kill me if Gamora found out,” Steve said.  The other two blinked at that.  “So, I’d appreciate it if you guys kept this conversation to yourselves,” he added with a slight grin.  He wasn’t actually sure she’d carry out her threat.  It also didn’t matter.  This was her secret, a secret she’d held for over a decade.  If she didn’t want Gamora to know then that was how it was.</p><p>Stark’s brow furrowed.  “Why keep it a secret?” he asked.</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “At this point, habit mostly,” he said.  “I think she convinced herself that she’d kept what she was doing from Thanos.  I think she was terrified that he’d punish them if he found out.”</p><p>“But you think he knew,” Tony prompted.</p><p>“The more I think about it, the more I have trouble imagining someone with his capabilities missing that trick.  I think he saw it; he saw it, and he decided to use it as a lever against her.”</p><p>“Wait, this doesn’t track,” Quill cut in.  “Nebula nearly killed Gamora to retrieve the Power Stone.  If it hadn’t been for some . . . impressive heroics on my part, she’d have succeeded.”</p><p>Tony turned to Quill.  “And this was after she’d betrayed Thanos?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Quill replied, clearly unsure of the relevance of that data point.  “What difference does that make.”</p><p>“You said it yourself,” Steve replied “anyone who crosses Thanos dies.”</p><p>“So, you think Nebula saw Gamora’s death as inevitable?” Quill asked.</p><p>“No, I think she saw Gamora’s betrayal of Thanos as a personal betrayal.  She saw it as throwing away everything she’d suffered on Gamora’s behalf,” Steve explained.</p><p>“And even then, by all reports, she did a piss poor job of killing her,” Tony added. </p><p>There was a moment of silence, as they all tried to imagine what it must have been like.  What it would have been like to perform these terrible acts, solely so another would be protected.  To watch your own body get ripped apart, your only solace being that it wasn’t happening to someone else.  And all the while, keeping the secret of what you were doing from everyone, even the person you were protecting.</p><p>They were each thankful that their imaginations simply were not up to that task.  They couldn’t imagine themselves enduring that.  They couldn’t imagine how she had.</p><p>Then Quill grunted.  The other two turned inquisitive looks on him.  “I’d always pictured guardian angels as being nicer,” he explained.</p><p>“Most guardian angels haven’t had to commit atrocities to protect their charge,” Tony replied pointedly.</p><p>“Yeah but what do we have to do with that?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Nothing,” Tony replied with a slight cock of his head, indicating the connection between the two escaped him.</p><p>“Oh, so she just hates us on principle?” Quill replied.</p><p>“She doesn’t hate us,” Steve replied in a cold voice.   “She hates herself.”</p><p>“Okay, that makes zero sense,” Quill replied.  “You’d make more sense if you said the sun was hot because it was cold.  That’s how much that doesn’t make any sense.”</p><p>“And I suppose people are always easy to understand?”  Tony replied sarcastically, turning an incredulous look on Peter.</p><p>“You just have to take the priorities in order,” Steve cut in before Quill could respond.  He cast a warning glance at Tony before continuing.  His friend had a penchant for turning conversations into arguments, that could not be entertained at the moment. </p><p>If anyone ever needed evidence of just how massively superior his intellect was, that was it.  What seemed like simple one-two-three logic to him appeared to be massive leaps and bounds of thought to a normal person.  They simply could not trace how to get from a to b.  And he couldn’t understand where the breakdown was coming from because everything seemed so simple to him.  He was simply too intelligent to ever be a decent teacher.  A mentor maybe, given the right pupil.</p><p>That didn’t mean he didn’t have blind spots.  People were his blind spot</p><p>“Her first priority,” Steve continued “has been to protect Gamora to the best of her ability.”</p><p>“Why?” Quill asked curiously.</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “I have no idea what started it,” he said.  “At this point I think it’s less about Gamora’s safety than a coping mechanism.  Gamora has become a . . . a totem, I guess is the best way to describe it.  She’s a walking symbol of Nebula’s ability to resist Thanos.  If Gamora dies everything she’s done, everything she’s suffered, becomes meaningless.”</p><p>“So, you’re saying that the more horrible things she’s done, the more horrible things she’d be willing to do?” Quill asked.</p><p>“It’s the classic ‘throwing good money after bad’ approach to business,” Tony put in.</p><p>“Right,” Steve agreed.  “Second comes Nebula’s own survival,” he continued.  “She has to protect herself, mostly because if she doesn’t, there’s no one to protect Gamora.  I think the only reason she’d let herself die was to protect her.”</p><p>“Okay,” Quill said.  He could at least understand that.  He’d pretty much proven that he’d die for Gamora.</p><p>“Lastly, and this one’s the kicker,” Steve continued “she’s not supposed to hurt anyone.  I have no idea how she’s managed to remember that, with all she’s been through,” he added, a sense of awe in his voice.  “Lord knows I couldn’t have.”</p><p>Peter squinted.  “Okay, the first two I get, but she hurts people all the time,” he pointed out.  “She’s got a reputation as quite the sadist,” he added.</p><p>“Because that priority has been subsumed by the other two,” Tony said.  “It’s like a twisted version of The Three Laws,” he added.</p><p>“Let me see if I’ve got this right,” Peter said.  “You’re saying that she knows she shouldn’t kill people.  But she does because it’s the only way to keep herself safe, and by keeping herself safe, she’s protecting Gamora.  But she hates herself for doing it anyways.  But she can’t take it out on herself, because then she’d kill herself.  And if she did that there’d be no one to protect Gamora.  So, she takes it out on everyone else?”</p><p>“Essentially,” Steve said with a nod.  “She hates herself for all the pain she had no choice in causing,” he summed up, giving a pointed look at Tony.  Tony didn’t respond, but his face had become tight as a drum.  His eyes had acquired a far-off look, as if his concentration had shifted somewhere outside this room. </p><p>“Sound like anyone else we know?” Steve asked pointedly, looking directly at Tony.  The object of his statement lost the far away look his eyes had gained to stare back, unsure of what to say.</p><p>“Yeah, I’d keep that comparison to yourself if I were you,” Quill replied.</p><p>Steve turned to look at him.  “You don’t think its accurate?” he asked.</p><p>“No, it’s not that,” Quill replied.  “It’s just that, if you’re right, I bet she sees him as a whiny little punk.”</p><p>“Or a kindred spirit,” Steve countered with a warning tone.</p><p>“No think about it,” that warned replied unheedingly.  “She spends all this time doing horrible things, in order to protect the one decent thing she could carve out of her existence, and here he is bitching about the couple of people here and there that he wasn’t able to save from the likes of her.  At least he got a chance to try and save them,” Quill added pointedly.</p><p>Neither of them replied.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Nebula navigated through the halls of the ship to the arena with a sense of slight dread.  She’d stayed in her room for as long as possible in an attempt to avoid the inevitable questions about the previous night.  But it was now time for one of her scheduled wastes of time.  She’d considered not going.  But that would have looked like she was hiding, which would have suggested a weakness that could be exploited.</p><p>She’d had no choice but to go.  But she’d resolved to make this the shortest bout in the history of the ship and then leave.</p><p>She was forced to alter that plan immediately upon her entry of the business end of the coliseum.  She was also forced to alter her path to avoid one flying maroon man.  She sidestepped the vibranium ballistic and glanced to the other end of the room.  Thor was there, recovering from the blow that had sent Jarvis on his merry way.</p><p>“Excuse me,” Jarvis muttered politely as he caught himself on the frame of the door and launched himself back into the arena.  Most bouts didn’t last their full time limit.  But this one had all the makings of a marathon.  The two were fairly evenly matched.  Thor was stronger, but Jarvis was far tougher.  Then again, Thor had his hammer.  He loved that hammer.</p><p>Nebula stepped to a wall on to the right of the door and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.  She leaned back against it, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and settled in to wait.  If she was lucky no one but those two would even notice her presence. </p><p>This was the first fight she’d actually witnessed on the ship.  While she’d understood why the others had taken to their roles as spectators, she’d seen enough of fighting pits to last a dozen lifetimes.  She wasn’t exactly sure why Gamora <em>had</em> participated.</p><p>Nebula was just starting to relax when Natasha spoke. “You might as well sit up here,” the Russian spy called out.  “This could take some time.”  Nebula glanced to the left where the other woman was watching her from the balcony. </p><p>She considered turning and leaving, but again, that would have appeared to be running away.  Better to never have come.</p><p>She considered how fortuitous it would be if some emergency interrupted her decision.  None materialized.</p><p>She briefly considered ignoring her, pretending she hadn’t heard.  But she’d already failed that approach by locating the source of the invitation. </p><p>She considered ignoring the invitation, just turning back to watch the fight.  That was the best option, really.  She had no reason to be sociable.  In fact, she’d gone to great lengths to be as unsociable as possible during this little star trip. </p><p>But she realized she didn’t want to.  She had no idea why.  It was preferable to sidestepping the arena’s current occupants, she supposed.</p><p>Lacking any other option, she turned and headed for the stairs.  She automatically measured her stride to avoid appearing either apprehensive or eager.  Either of those was a sign of weakness.  Weakness inevitably invited challenge.</p><p>She climbed the stairs lithely and took a seat at the back of the three-row gallery as far from anyone as she could find, a look of warning plastered on her face.  She hoped that would be enough to discourage idle conversation.  It always had in the past.</p><p>She should have known it wouldn’t work with this group.  They were not the fodder of whichever species Thanos had decided to victimize.  Nor were they easily cowed by threats to their own persons.  It was only a matter of time before their curiosity overcame their manners.</p><p>The only question in her mind was which of them would be first.  She scanned those assembled without actually looking at any of them, wondering just who would volunteer for a beating.  Nearly everyone was there.  Ironically, the only absent members appeared to be the leaders of the various groups.  Thor was in the ring of course, but that still left Stark, Quill, Rogers, and Gamora unaccounted for.</p><p>While those were, undoubtedly, the most forceful of personalities on the ship, she had no doubt someone present would rise to the occasion.  Her money was on Rocket.  Not only was he the type to say things no one else would, he’d also had to restrain himself from looking back at her twice in the short time she’d been sitting there.  Her only hope was that the fight in progress would end before that happened.</p><p>To her surprise it wasn’t the loudmouth racoon cyborg that breached her wall of silence; it was Barnes.  After only a few moments he got up, strode casually to the back row, and plopped down into the chair next to her. </p><p>She attempted to glare him away.  He impassively ignored it, instead keeping his attention on fight.  She quickly gave up and turned to do the same.  Again, she found herself faced with a no-win set of choices.  Normally she’d simply break him for intruding on her privacy, but she’d promised Gamora she’d cooperate.  She was fairly certain folding someone into a pretzel didn’t fall within that directive.</p><p>“You have a good time last night?” Barnes asked eventually, eyes still forward.</p><p>Nebula glanced at him out of pure reflex.  Of course, that reflex also involved a verbal warning, and possibly a beating.  Somehow, she kept from following through on the rest of that.</p><p>When he kept his façade of attention on the fight up, she turned back forward as well.  At first, she had no intention of replying.  It was none of his, or anyone else’s, business.  But it occurred to her that, just this once, the truth might shut him up.</p><p>“It was a mistake,” she grated, voice barely above a whisper.</p><p>It was Bucky’s turn to glance at her.  “I don’t know what Steve sees in you,” he continued, again facing the fight.  “But it must have been something.”</p><p>“You’re point?” Nebula asked coldly.</p><p>“Steve’s a good man.  He’s only been serious about one other woman in his entire life,” Barnes explained.  “I don’t want to see him hurt.”</p><p>“He’s a fool,” Nebula growled.</p><p>“I wouldn’t go that far,” Natasha said, turning to sit on the railing.  “He’s not the smartest person on the ship, I’ll grant you; but he’s no idiot.  And he understands people better than most.”</p><p>“He only understands people who share his motivations,” Nebula replied.  “He interprets actions only within his own context.  It is only because he surrounds himself with such people that he seems worldly.  But he cannot see a monster when it stands in front of him.”</p><p>Natasha arched an eyebrow at that.  “You hear that Bruce?” she asked.  “We have a monster among us.”</p><p>Banner shrugged.  “One more won’t make much difference,” he said without so much as turning around.</p><p>Nebula assumed a look of incredulity.  “You people don’t seriously think you’re monsters,” she said.</p><p>“Oh, we know we are,” Natasha said, eyes suddenly cold.  “Not all of us,” she added with a glance at Parker “but a surprising majority.  I’m not entirely sure you and your sister fall in that category though.”</p><p>Nebula’s eyes snapped a glare at Natasha.  “Do not think that, just because I play with you in your little pen, you know what I am capable of,” she snarled.</p><p>“Out of curiosity, what are you capable of?” T’Challa asked, turning around to face her.</p><p>Nebula turned a stony look towards him.  “How many innocent people have you killed?” she asked.</p><p>“More than I would like to admit,” the king said before glancing the question to Natasha.</p><p>That worthy crossed her arms over her chest.  “A couple hundred,” Widow admitted, a sour look coming over her face before she volleyed the question to the other side of the gallery.</p><p>“I wrecked one city, and attacked another,” Banner said quietly.  “I don’t really know how many people I hurt.”</p><p>“Rocket?” Natasha prompted.</p><p>“Two hundred seventy-three point four,” the raccoon replied.</p><p>“Point four?” Peter asked.</p><p>“It’s a long story,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“Drax?” Natasha prompted.</p><p>“I called down an entire attack on Nowhere just to get my revenge,” he admitted.  “I don’t know how many people died.”</p><p>“Let me know when you reach a thousand,” Nebula cut in, ending the Mickey Mouse Manslaughter House roll call short.</p><p>Natasha shrugged.  “The number’s not really important,” she said.  “It’s the reason we chose to kill them.  Why did you kill those thousand people?”</p><p>“Thanos decreed it,” Nebula said darkly.</p><p>“So, it wasn’t really your choice?” Parker asked.</p><p>“What difference does that make?” Nebula asked.</p><p>“Well, it makes every difference,” Peter replied, confused.</p><p>“Not to them,” Nebula countered, a response no one seemed to have an answer for.  Most of them had at least a few skeletons in their closet, people that had died directly to choices they’d made.  Would it really have made any difference if they’d been simply following someone’s orders?  Wouldn’t they still be responsible, as the acting party?</p><p>Granted, that flew in the face of the concept of ‘chain of command’, the idea that some of the blame did indeed pass up the chain to those giving those unpleasant orders.  But all of it?</p><p>The uncertain silence filled the room for several moments.  Only the sounds of Jarvis and Thor locked in endless combat pervaded its totality.  And even that seemed to fade as they fought to disagree with her.</p><p>“I am curious,” T’Challa asked eventually “what would have happened if you had refused to carry out Thanos’s orders?”</p><p>Nebula blinked at the seeming irrelevance of that question.  “They would have died,” she said.</p><p>“No,” he replied holding one hand up.  “What would have happened to you?”</p><p>Nebula hesitated.  “Disobedience requires punishment,” she said in a dead tone.</p><p>“By punishment I assume you mean torture?”</p><p>“Is there a difference?” Nebula asked.</p><p>“And they still would have died,” T’Challa pressed on, ignoring the chill her reply had sent down his spine.  The simple fact that she could not discriminate between punishment and torture had opened a terrifying window into her past for all of them.</p><p>“I already said that,” she said shortly.</p><p>“Yes, I believe you did,” T’Challa replied with a slight nod of his head.</p><p>“Doesn’t sound very monstrous to me,” Bucky commented.</p><p>“Then you’re a fool as well,” Nebula replied acidly.  Why was she staying here?  Why did she put up with this idiocy?  She should just leave.  She almost got up, but a sudden thought stopped her.  Why did she want to run away?  What about this conversation scared her?  So, she forced herself to stay.</p><p>“Well, at least I’m in good company,” Barnes replied sarcastically, earning a quick glare from the blue woman.</p><p>“Nebula,” Natasha cut in “sometimes it’s the motive that makes us monsters.  I didn’t kill because there was no choice.  I killed for money.  Bruce killed out of anger,” she added.</p><p>“I killed them because they were in the way,” Rocket said unrepentantly.</p><p>“I killed for vengeance,” T’Challa added.</p><p>“And I,” Drax chimed in.</p><p>“But you,” Natasha said, taking control of the conversation again “you killed to avoid torture.  You killed people who might as well have already been dead.”</p><p>“I could have refused,” Nebula said bitterly.</p><p>“Who would that have helped?” Scott asked.  Nebula stared him into silence.</p><p>“The answer is: no one,” Natasha said, adding a touch of steel to her voice.  “Have you ever killed anyone that wasn’t guaranteed to die?”</p><p>“Half a cruiser’s worth of Ravagers,” Nebula said, meeting Gamora’s gaze with a look challenging her to find something noble in that.</p><p>“Oh, please,” Rocket piped up.  “I was there too, remember?” he added.  “She was there, but she didn’t kill anyone.  Didn’t even kill Yondu when she shot him, which was a nice shot by the way,” he added.  “Mutinous Ravagers killed them, and she stopped them from killing me and Yondu.”</p><p>Nebula considered pointing out that she could have stopped that purge at any time, but doubted that argument would sway anyone much.  They couldn’t see how monstrous it was to look into the terrified eyes of innocent people and murder them in cold blood.  All she’d done there was not do anything.  She still wasn’t even sure why she’d rescued Rocket. </p><p>“I suppose torturing people isn’t monstrous either?” she said suddenly, still wondering why she cared.  She wasn’t sure why it was so important that these people see her for what she was.  But it was.  They were all naïve, that much was clear.  But why did that matter to her?</p><p>“Depends,” Wade replied.  He’d been uncharacteristically silent through the conversation until now.  He never thought he’d be defending someone guilty of torture, which he found oddly amusing.  “Was it better or worse than the torture they’d have received at Thanos’s hands.”</p><p>Again, Nebula was silent.  But this time her lack of response was less a calculated coldness and due more to the memory that comment had dredged up. </p><p>She’d hesitated the first time Thanos had ordered someone tortured to death.  It had been a young woman, someone she might have been if she hadn’t been captured.  Just as the red and black maniac had somehow guessed, Thanos had taken over personally.  What he’d done to that person had been horrific.  After that, Nebula had learned to kill as quickly as possible.  But, even then, sometimes the order came.  And when it had she’d complied without hesitation.</p><p>“You’re all fools,” she whispered again.  But this time the insult lacked the complete and unwavering conviction it had attained previously.  A part of her wondered why she was arguing at all.  Who wants to be a monster?</p><p>Natasha turned to Banner.  “What do you think, Bruce?” she asked.</p><p>The mousy scientist Nebula still couldn’t understand why everyone feared pursed his lips in thought.  Then he shook his head.  “I don’t think she’s a monster,” he declared.  “I think she’s Vlad the Impaler.”  Looks from the various people present ranged from confusion to curiosity. </p><p>“Vlad the Impaler?” Natasha asked dubiously.</p><p>“How does one get this Impaler title?” Drax asked, gaining a range of dirty looks from those present.  “What?” he asked slightly defensively.  “I’ve impaled more people than I can count with my knives.  No one calls me the Impaler.”</p><p>“Vlad the Impaler was leader of Walachia, a country that bordered the Ottoman Empire in the late fifteenth century,” Parker explained.  “When his father was Voivode he was captured by the Turks and held as a hostage, to ensure his father would support their interests.”</p><p>“Right,” Bruce replied, taking the conversation back.  “They hoped that, by raising him themselves, the Turks would be able to shape his attitudes to their interests.  But it didn’t work; while he was in captivity, Vlad came to hate his captors.  He was constantly being disciplined for his attitude.  About the only thing he cooperated on was his martial training.”</p><p>“But even that was a trap,” Bruce continued “because soon he found himself in the Ottoman Empire’s Janissary corps.  His battalion was tasked to conquer villages along their border.  These villages were given a choice: surrender, or be put to death, every man woman and child.  If they refused to surrender, Vlad would impale the entire village on giant stakes, every man woman and child.”</p><p>“That’s terrible,” Mantis said with a slight shudder.</p><p>“Yes,” Bruce agreed “but it has been noted that, for every village he put to the stake, ten would surrender.”</p><p>“And you think that’s why he did it?” Nebula asked dubiously.  Unlike the others, she’d seen far worse fates than impalement; that held little horror for her.</p><p>“No,” Bruce replied.  “I think it enraged him.  These people had a choice, whereas he had none.  And they chose to make him kill them.  But it’s worth noting that he didn’t stop, even when the conversion rate increased.”  They all fell silent as each worked through what that implied, all but Natasha who settled for holding a doubtful look on her face.</p><p>“What happened to this man?” Drax asked eventually.</p><p>“His father and older brother were tortured to death and he was released to rule Walachia,” Bruce answered.  “Despite their best hopes, he led several highly successful campaigns against the Ottoman Empire before being killed in battle.”</p><p>“So, his struggle was ultimately meaningless,” Drax said.</p><p>Bruce shrugged.  “Some historians suggest that his successes against such odds inspired other Christian kingdoms to resist the Turk’s expansion.”</p><p>“What happened to this Turkish Empire?” Drax asked.</p><p>“It collapsed nearly two hundred years ago,” Parker replied.</p><p>Before anyone else could say anything, Nebula lurched to her feet, a thousand different thoughts and emotions sweeping across her face.  Finally, she settled on one.</p><p>“I am not this person,” she whispered before stalking out of the room.  Again, the room was filled with silence.</p><p>Finally, Natasha turned to Bruce.  “You know, Vlad the Third was a royal hostage.  There’s no evidence that he ever fought in the Janissary corps,” she said.</p><p>Bruce gave another little shrug.  “So, I took that from a movie I saw a few years ago,” he said.  “What, she’s not going to know the difference,” he added defensively.</p><p>“You have definitely been spending too much time with Tony,” Natasha replied, with a slight grin.  Bruce gave a surprised grin in reply.</p><p>“Why is it so important that she be a monster?” Parker asked.</p><p>“I don’t think she is,” Bruce replied.</p><p>“Yeah, but what I meant was, why is it so important that she think she’s a monster.”</p><p>“Because it’s easier to live with having committed monstrous deeds if you’re a monster,” Barnes said darkly.  “It’s like . . . a kind of armor, an armor against the looks of horror your victims give you,” he added.</p><p>“What’s this about a monster?” Thor asked, coming up the stairs into the booth.  He was favoring his right side.  Vision followed behind him.</p><p>“You guys finally finished,” Natasha said in surprise, less in that one of them had eventually emerged victor than that she hadn’t noticed it.</p><p>“It was a well-matched bout,” Jarvis stated.</p><p>“Who won?” Parker asked.</p><p>“He did,” Thor replied with a slight nod in the homunculus’s direction.</p><p>“Thor showed considerable restraint,” Jarvis countered.  “I have no doubt that, had he decided to throw magic bolts of lightning, the outcome would have been quite different.”</p><p>“So, which monster did we interrupt you talking about?” Thor said, ignoring the platitude.</p><p>“Nebula,” Natasha answered.  “Bruce was just likening her to Vlad the Third.”  Thor frowned in confusion, but he could be forgiven a slight lack of ignorance where Earth history was involved.</p><p>Jarvis’s eyes narrowed momentarily.  “Specifically, the portrayal of Vlad the Impaler from the movie ‘Dracula Untold’ I presume,” he commented.</p><p>“Well, yes,” Natasha replied.  “You’ve seen that movie?”</p><p>“It is one of Mr. Banner’s favorite movies,” Jarvis stated.</p><p>“Really?” Natasha asked, turning a raised brow on Bruce.</p><p>The target of her query shrugged.  “It speaks to me,” he said uncomfortably.</p><p>“One could certainly draw certain parallels between that movie and Nebula’s life,” Jarvis commented.  “Regarding its accuracy, the remaining question lies within her motivation.”</p><p>“I do not think her motivations are that noble,” Mantis said from the corner of the room.  “If they were, she’d have been able to pick up Mjolnir,” she added, with a meaningful glance at the hammer in Thor’s hand.</p><p>Thor glanced downward then gave a tight grin.  “It’s a funny thing: being worthy,” he replied.  “You can believe you are with every fiber of your being and not be.  But you can’t be worthy if you believe you aren’t.”</p><p>“I guess modesty isn’t one of the traits it looks for then,” Lang replied sarcastically.</p><p>Drax’s brow furrowed.  “Why would a liar be worthy?” he asked.</p><p>“It’s not lying,” Parker argued.  “It’s just . . .” he started before trailing off.</p><p>“No, it’s lying,” Barnes stated quietly.  “It’s a lie great people tell so others won’t feel inferior in their presence.”</p><p>Jarvis fixed his gaze on Barnes.  “Perhaps it’s a lie great people tell themselves so they won’t feel pride in doing the best they could with a terrible situation,” he suggested.  Barnes’s eyes snapped up to the maroon man.  His mouth opened automatically, to refute that suggestion.</p><p>“We can discuss the merits of, and uses for, modesty later,” Natasha cut in.  “Thor, are you saying you believe that’s why she can’t pick the hammer up.”</p><p>The burly man shrugged.  “The hammer allows me to use it,” he explained.  “It doesn’t give me dossiers on everyone it judges unworthy.  All I can tell you is what it’s looking for.”</p><p>“Someone purely good right?” Parker asked.</p><p>Thor shifted his focus to this kid that Tony had brought aboard.  “It that were true Tony could take Mjolnir from me,” he stated.</p><p>Lang scoffed.  “You expect us to believe that guy is pure as the driven snow?  Do you have any idea the body count he’s left in his wake?”</p><p>“Is that really his body count?” T’Challa asked.  Scott glanced at him but didn’t reply.</p><p>“You may disagree with his methods,” Thor replied “but that man has turned himself into a servant of the human race.  He does not do the things he does for personal gratification or power, but because he truly wants to help.  Of all of us here, he is the only one that hates the job.”</p><p>“Flying around in powered armor,” Bucky replied.  “Being a hero. Doing whatever he wants.  Yeah, I can totally see how that would get old.”</p><p>“No, he’s right,” Banner countered.  “Tony hates putting the suit on.  He hates fighting.  He hates killing.  That was what Ultron was supposed to be about: creating a world that didn’t need him to do those things.”</p><p>“So, that’s why Tony can’t wield the hammer; because he’s too good?” Natasha asked doubtfully.</p><p>“It’s not so much the strength of his good side, but his lacking of a bad side,” Thor said, surprising them all.</p><p>“Now that makes even less sense,” Sam said.</p><p>“The hammer doesn’t just want someone that will use it in just causes,” Thor countered.  “It wants someone that will use it to its fullest capability.  It requires someone that enjoys the fight, who becomes the fight.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t Steve be able to pick it up then?” Bucky asked.</p><p>“No,” Natasha answered contemplatively.  “Steve’s afraid of his dark side.  It’s there, but always on a short leash.”</p><p>“He almost picked it up once,” Banner observed.</p><p>“You people have a saying,” Thor responded.  “Almost is only good enough with horseshoes and hand grenades.”</p><p>“Are you saying Cap will never be worthy?” Falcon asked.</p><p>Thor shook his head.  “People insist on treating worthiness as some sort of constant,” he said.  “It isn’t, believe me,” he added with a slight, bittersweet grin.  “Few people are worthy all of the time.  But, in those critical moments, when one person’s actions might determine the fate of others . . . well, I have no doubt that many of you would have no trouble wielding it.” </p><p>“Except him,” Thor added with a grin, pointing to Deadpool.  “No offense, but it doesn’t like crazy.”</p><p>“Yeah well, who really wants to have to check with their weapon before they kill a guy?” Wade replied.  “Imagine if you’re fingernail clippers just decided they weren’t going to cut one fingernail today.  How annoying would that be?”</p><p>“I really don’t think fingernail clippers qualify as a lethal weapon, Wade,” Sam replied.</p><p>“Maybe not for you, Robin,” Wade replied.</p><p>“It’s Falcon,” Sam corrected.</p><p>“Whatever, Cardinal,” Wade continued.  “The point is, anything is a lethal weapon, except a sentient one.  I’ve played D and D; those things are always a curse.”</p><p>“You’re always a gnome, aren’t you?” Lang asked.</p><p>“What difference does that make?” Wade asked.  “And it’s pronounced ‘halfling’,” he added.</p><p>“Okay, I think we’re done here,” Natasha said, pushing off of the railing she’d been leaning against.</p><p>“Yeah, this is getting weird,” Falcon agreed, getting up.</p><p>Jarvis held a hand up in a ‘halt’ gesture.  “I believe I have one more row,” he observed.</p><p>“Oh yeah, that,” Natasha said as she strode to the back of the gallery.  “Congratulations, you’re the first person to win against Nebula.”  Then she was out the door.</p><p>“Seems a rather hollow victory,” Vision commented, following.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Hope For The Best . . .</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sol System - Outer Boundary</p><p>The Statesman’s Bridge</p><p> </p><p> The entire team stood about the bridge, mutely watching the repaired forward screen.  Most of them seemed stunned by the level of destruction; even Rocket was at a loss for an appropriately snide comment. </p><p>The only ones present that didn’t seem sick were Gamora and Nebula.  Then again, it was not the first world they’d seen broken by Thanos.  At the other end of that spectrum were those from Earth.  They’d clearly never anticipated the level of destruction Thanos was capable of.  They all had people they cared about down there.  People they desperately wanted to make sure were okay.  And there was no way to check on them.  Stark had Friday combing the reports for specific names.  Everyone hoped she wouldn’t find any.  No one was naïve enough to believe it.</p><p>Every country seemed to have borne its weight of fire, but Wakanda had received special attention.  The massive hologram that had hidden them from the world for so long was absent, revealing a pockmarked landscape of fire.  The entire country seemed littered with the varying sized remains of that great country’s weapons of war.  The most advanced weapons of war that could be found on that entire planet.</p><p>And that was just the start.  As they watched, the signs of resistance became synonymous with the signs of desolation.  Anywhere that had not surrendered had seen massive retaliation.  Nowhere on the planet reached the shear massive devastation visited upon the United States, although China and India came close.</p><p>The newscaster finished updating the estimate of the dead and wounded, including military losses.  Then the report switched back to the heroic last stands those militaries had fought less than twelve hours before.  When it rolled back to Wakanda’s defiance T’Challa turned away, a look of obsidian on his face.</p><p>The last estimate of enemy casualties was just over a hundred thousand.  But, when compared to the losses to the people of the Earth, losses creeping worryingly close to one billion, it couldn’t even be considered a Pyric victory.</p><p>“We’re too late,” Scott breathed, more to himself than anyone else.</p><p>“Really?” Falcon snapped, turning an incredulous look on the former thief.  “Is that you’re expert opinion?”</p><p>“Well, I’m sure some of us needed it spelled out for them,” Rocket snapped.  “I mean, we’re not really going down there are we?”</p><p>“Thanos is still here,” Natasha said.  “That means he hasn’t found the time stone yet.”</p><p>“What difference does that make?” Rocket protested.  “The guy just wrecked a planet in <em>twelve hours</em>.  And, the last time I checked, we didn’t have anyone that could wreck planets at all.”</p><p>“Rocket,” Gamora said slowly, trying to keep a lid on her temper “if he gets the last stone, he’ll kill us all wherever we are.”  She didn’t want to go down there any more than anyone else.  More so really.  Of all of them, she and Nebula were the only ones who knew exactly what failure would mean.  If they were lucky it was a simple death sentence.  If they were lucky.</p><p>“Fine, but-” the racoon started before the entire argument was preempted by breaking news.  They turned in unison to see Thanos’s massive face on the screen.</p><p>“There they are,” he sneered.  “It’s about time.  I was getting bored.”</p><p>Tony was the first one to gather himself together.  “Oh, I’d think you’d be quite busy,” he said.</p><p>“What, you mean looking for this?” Thanos replied, holding up the gauntlet.  In its second to last socket rested a green gem.  Despite their best efforts, every one of them displayed varying expressions of dismay.  Thanos’s grin widened slowly as he gloated over each and every one.  “Did you really think I didn’t know where to find it?” he asked, continuing the gloat.  “Who do you think entrusted it to Agamotto?”</p><p>“Aga-who?” Sam asked.</p><p>“Strange,” Tony breathed in trepidation.  Steven Strange had mentioned a great sorcerer to him once, named Agamotto.  Tony suddenly felt chilled as if by a blast of wind from the arctic.  Strange was supposed to be their ace in the hole, the guy no one was supposed to see coming.  But if the Time Stone had been Agamotto’s, that meant Steven knew about it.  And if Thanos now had it then Strange was either dead or worse.</p><p>“What’s strange?” Thor asked, keying on the sudden loss of blood to his friend’s face.</p><p>“Doctor Steven Strange,” Tony explained, watching Thanos carefully, praying that he was wrong.  But all he saw on the monster’s face was smugness.  “He had the Time Stone.”</p><p>“Wait,” Natasha said, striding over to Tony “are you saying you knew this whole time where the last stone was?” </p><p>Tony finally broke eye contact with Thanos to look at her.  “No,” he said.  “Strange is the sorcerer that repaired Mjolnir.  He’s mentioned the name Agamotto a couple of times.”</p><p>“Wait, Earth has sorcerers?” Quill asked.</p><p>“That’s exactly what I said,” Thor replied.</p><p>“You knew about him too?” Steve asked.</p><p>Thor shrugged.  “He’s the sorcerer that trapped my brother in free fall for thirty minutes when we were searching for my father,” he explained as a bittersweet grin flashed over his face.</p><p>“Oh, I’d have loved to have seen that,” Tony muttered.</p><p>“Should have just left him there,” Bruce agreed.</p><p>“Really?” Thor asked defensively.  “If he had Loki would not have shown up in the eleventh hour to save my people.  And he wouldn’t have been able to sacrifice himself to keep the Tesseract out of Thanos’s hands.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, he did a great job of that,” Quill said pointedly.</p><p>“Excuse me?” Thor demanded, stalking over to him.  He stopped, mere inches from Peter’s face.  “What did you say?” he demanded.  Quill matched Thor’s gaze, jaw set firmly.  He wanted desperately to back his statement up, but he found that one small part of him was holding him back.  And it wasn’t his conscience; he hadn’t said anything false.  It was something else.  Some part of him that knew it would just make matters worse.  Apparently, the constant stream of disappointed looks he’d been getting from Gamora had taken its toll.</p><p>Not that his restraint made any difference to Thor.  He’d listened to his brother’s name get dragged through the mud for a month now, as if everyone on this boat were an expert on his brother, or in any way understood what his brother had gone through.</p><p>“At least my brother tried,” Thor continued menacingly.  “Could you say the same, Thief?” he asked, placing special emphasis on that last.</p><p>Whatever Peter might have said in return was preempted by Widow.  “Are you enjoying this?” she asked.  The two men exchanged confused glances and turned to her.  They quickly realized that it was not they that she had been referring to; she was staring at the forward screen.</p><p>The forward screen where Thanos’s amused face was still hovering.  “Very much,” the purple space gorilla said.  “The idea that this disjointed band of nonconformists ever believed it was a threat to me is quite amusing.  Look at yourselves; you cannot conform, even with each other.  You fight and squabble like children.  You lack a unifying will.  It is why you fail.  It is why you shall always fail.”</p><p>“We kicked your ass before,” Tony pointed out.</p><p>“A pointless skirmish,” Thanos said with a dismissive wave of his left hand.</p><p>“Huh,” Bruce said suddenly as he watched the gauntlet pass in front of the screen.  He gave the room a sheepish look as he realized he had suddenly become the center of attention.</p><p>“What?” Tony asked impatiently.  “I know that ‘huh’.”</p><p>“Well I just noticed -I should have seen it before- the Mind Stone is missing.  I’m guessing this Strange guy has it.”</p><p>Thanos’s grin increased in magnitude.  “Don’t you worry your angry little head,” he said.  “It’s in a safe place.  And, at the allotted time, it shall be delivered to me.  Then you will all die,” he assured them, with an air of a prophet.</p><p>“Really?  You afraid to do it yourself?” Steve asked, sounding almost disappointed.</p><p>The Titan’s grin faded.  “As I recall, you were the ones doing all the leg work when last we met.”</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “Maybe.  But that’s not how it looks now.  What’s the matter; You afraid we might take it from you?”</p><p>Thanos’s grin returned as he leaned closer to the pickup.  “Are you attempting to goad me, little man?” he asked, with an air of stark superiority.</p><p>“No,” Steve replied “I’m just calling it like it is.  You’re afraid we’ll take that fancy gauntlet from you.  I wouldn’t be surprised if you ran when we caught up to you.”</p><p>“I do not run,” Thanos bellowed.</p><p>“Now, that isn’t exactly true,” Thor countered, stepping up to stand next to Tony and Steve.  “You ran from my father.”</p><p>“Your father was a coward,” Thanos rumbled “a coward hiding in his stronghold, afraid to risk stepping out where I could kill him.”</p><p>“Strange,” Quill said, stepping into the center of the room with the others “does that description remind you guys of anyone we might know?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Steve said, turning pointedly to stare at the screen.  “I can think of a guy that fits that description.”</p><p>Thanos’s face seemed to swell with anger.  Gone was the gloating superiority.  It its place was something murderous.  For a moment there was hope that he would suffer a fatal aneurism.  It was a fleeting thought, quickly dismissed; Thanos had not lasted millennia only to die of such a simple malady.</p><p>Not that they would have complained if that were the case.</p><p>Thanos regained enough composure to speak.  “You will all be ground beneath the heel of my destiny, just as your pathetic armies have been.”</p><p>“Just give us a time and place, Chucky,” Tony said.</p><p>Thanos’s glare shifted to the engineer.  There was a brief moment of nonverbal threat before he replied.  “There is a coliseum in the place you have twice named New York,” he said.  “You have until my destiny is fulfilled to present yourselves to me.”  He made one more glared threat to the room in general, slowing only for Gamora and Nebula, then cut the connection.</p><p>The room was still a moment longer.  Then everyone seemed to remember to breathe all at once.  Their postures loosened almost imperceptibly.  All except the two sisters, who seemed to be standing even more rigidly than ever.  Their faces were a mask, but beneath that mask was fear in its most raw uncontrollable form.</p><p>“Well, you got him angry,” Rocket commented.  “Not sure if that was a good idea,” he added.</p><p>“We needed him to agree to give us one last chance,” Steve explained.</p><p>“But, will he actually grant it?” T’Challa asked.  By common consent the entire room turned to the two sisters.  But it was clear that they weren’t really there.  They were still in the same physical location.  Actually, they were still in exactly the same positions they’d been in when Thanos had cut the connection.</p><p>“Gamora?” Quill prompted.  She blinked, and seemed to shake herself back to the present from whatever hell she was remembering.  Nebula followed suit, like one dog shaking the water out of its fur after the one next to it.</p><p>“Um, I . . . yes, he’ll be there,” she said as she went through the process of reviewing her short-term memory for the question.</p><p>“You’re sure?” Tony asked.</p><p>“What else would he do?” she asked.</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “If it were me, I’d blow the stadium up the moment we arrived,” he offered.</p><p>“He won’t,” Nebula affirmed.  “You might be willing to be seen as a coward,” she added, turning to Tony.  “He can’t.  He can’t be seen to be running away from a challenge.”</p><p>“I’d hardly call sound tactics being cowardly,” Tony argued.  “If I had an orbital death ray ready, I’d be perfectly happy to destroy the entire stadium to end this.”</p><p>“Wait, you mean you don’t have an orbital death ray?” Wade asked, sounding both surprised and disappointed at the same time.</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “The U.N. objected,” he added, leaving everyone unsure of whether he was serious or not.</p><p>“Alright, so we know he’ll be there,” Quill said, bringing the conversation back on topic.  He was not the only one to note the irony of that.   “Where exactly is ‘there’?”</p><p>“Yankee Stadium,” Steve said.</p><p>“And you know this because?” Rocket asked.</p><p>“The place ‘twice named New York’ is New York city, New York,” Steve said.  “Yankee Stadium is the biggest arena in the city.”</p><p>“Okay, problem,” Tony said.  “We can’t land this boat in the center of New York City.  With this kind of damage, I don’t even want to try and hover over it.”</p><p>“Alright, what do you suggest?” Natasha asked.</p><p>“We land at the Avenger’s Facility in upstate New York and take a Quinjet to Steve’s old stomping grounds.”</p><p>“Is there enough time for that?” Wanda asked.</p><p>Tony shrugged, looking up at the ceiling in thought.  “An hour to get into low Earth orbit.  Another ten minutes to reenter and land.  About fifteen to get a Quinjet operational from cold status.  And another ten to get down to The Bronx.”</p><p>Steve squinted at that.  “It usually takes a few minutes to get a Quinjet off the ground,” he pointed out.</p><p>“We usually have a couple of planes on hot standby, too,” Tony replied.  “But I had the entire complex shut down when we left.  That includes storing the jets.”</p><p>“Why?” Natasha asked.</p><p>“Would you rather the facility look like a set of secure warehouses, or a command and control facility?” Tony asked.</p><p>“You mean you were planning on Thanos getting to Earth?” Lang demanded.</p><p>Tony turned to the younger man.  “I planned ‘for’ it, not ‘on’ it,” he corrected.  “The facility was hardly any use to us while we were galivanting through the cosmos.”</p><p>“Whatever,” Quill cut in.  “How long do we have before Thanos’s ‘destiny’ is fulfilled,” he asked, emphasizing the word ‘destiny’ with a foolish tone while encasing it in air quotes.  “And, seriously, why am I the one keeping us on topic?”</p><p>“As to your second question: because people keep interrupting with stupid questions,” Tony said sparing a look for Lang.  The target of his ire shifted indignantly, but remained silent.  “As to the first: assuming Monkey Chucky was able to socket the Time Stone as soon as he arrived on Earth, we should have about an hour and thirty-seven minutes before he can socket the Mind Stone.”</p><p>“One hour, thirty-seven minutes, and sixteen seconds to be precise,” Friday put in.</p><p>“Great, two minutes,” Quill muttered.  “Cause it’s not like getting the gauntlet off of his forearm was going to be difficult,” he added sarcastically.</p><p>Tony shook his head.  “He still has to re-add The Mind Stone.”</p><p>“If he has it,” Steve pointed out.</p><p>“He has it,” Natasha replied. </p><p>“Why did he remove it?” Mantis asked.</p><p>“Timing,” Rocket replied.  “If he’d left it in, he’d still have had to wait to socket the Time Stone.  But then he’d have had to wait about six hours before he could use the gauntlet.”</p><p>“How long will he have to wait now?” Gamora asked.  Tony and Rocket shifted uncomfortably.  “An hour; two?” she guessed, glancing between them.</p><p>“Four and a half minutes,” Parker said.</p><p>They all turned to look at him.  “Four minutes?  That can’t be right,” Gamora protested.  But the looks on Rocket and Tony’s faces spoke otherwise.</p><p>“Four minutes and thirty-nine seconds,” Friday corrected.</p><p>“Fine, whatever,” Gamora snapped.  “Six minutes isn’t enough time.”</p><p>“Six minutes, fifty-five seconds,” Friday corrected again.</p><p>“Friday!” Tony snapped with a glare to the ceiling.</p><p>“It’s more like seven minutes,” the AI protested petulantly.</p><p>“Oh, well that extra minute makes all the difference,” Lang said.</p><p>Tony turned a glare on him.  “Do you have a better option?”</p><p>“Could we land in the Hudson?” Parker asked.</p><p>“We might be able to get her in there, but we still have to get out of the ship,” Steve said.  “The undertow would be killer.”</p><p>“There’re several fields near it.  Couldn’t we land there?” Parker asked.</p><p>Tony shook his head again.  “Some of them are big enough, but they’re surrounded by multi-story buildings.”</p><p>“Alright, so land on the buildings,” Quill stated.</p><p>Tony turned an incredulous eye on him.  “And just hope that our exit doesn’t get buried under tons of steel and concrete?” he asked.  “That’s not even to mention the three hundred plus years of substructure built into the city.  There’s no guarantee that the surface could hold this ship.”</p><p>“Look, its academic anyways,” Steve cut in.  “There won’t be any running away this time.  This fight won’t last five minutes.  We either win or we lose.”</p><p>“Anyone laying odds?” Rocket mumbled.</p><p>“There is also the possibility of intercepting the Mind Stone,” Jarvis pointed out.  “Thanos made it clear that he does not have it with him,” he explained to their doubtful looks.  “It will be delivered to him.  If we can intercept the courier we have as long as we’ll need.  We may even be able to lure him away from Earth.”</p><p>“Okay, we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Steve replied, cutting that short.  “Let’s focus on the fight.”</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “Given the choice, I’d rather smear that smug bastard against a cliff.”</p><p>“Now that’s arrogance,” Gamora said.  “Thanos has been a menace to the galaxy for thousands of years.  You think he’ll just fall down and expire because you showed up?”</p><p>“I prefer to think of it as optimism,” Tony replied.  “Someone has to get lucky sometime.  Why not us?”</p><p>“Now that’s a new outlook for you,” Natasha said sarcastically.</p><p>“I’ve been reading a new self-help book: Better Actualization Through Visualization,” Tony replied off handedly.</p><p>“Wait, is that the one that comes with a lollipop set in the inside cover?  The one you aren’t supposed to open until you have some great success?” Wade asked.  Tony turned enough to give the mouthy merc a quizzical glance before deciding to drop the fact that, as far as he was aware, there was no such book.  “I read that one,” Wade continued, apparently oblivious to the look.  “Ate the sucker too,” he added proudly.</p><p>“Anyway-” Tony started before Wade interrupted him again.</p><p>“-It only took two weeks,” he continued, clearly quite pleased with himself.  Tony refrained from asking which person he had to kill to get his free treat.  Instead he waited just to see if there would be any more interruptions.</p><p>“As I was saying-” Tony started again.</p><p>“-Killed the leader of a Yakuza clan,” he elaborated, gaining an emphatic eyeroll from Tony.  The engineer was beginning to regret his quip entirely.</p><p>“Are you done?” Tony asked, fixing him with a glare that mixed annoyance and irritation.  Wade shrugged, but remained silent.  For a change.  Instead, someone else spoke up.</p><p>“And I suppose you have a plan on how to beat Thanos at a game he’s played for more than a thousand years?” Quill asked.</p><p>Tony shook his head.  “Not my department,” he replied.  “It is his though,” he added, indicating Steve with a nod of the head.  All eyes turned on the super soldier.</p><p>“Um,” Steve said, clearly caught off guard.  He spared a quick glare for Tony then turned his attention to the question at hand.  “Well, Vision’s got the right idea,” he started “but I think we should focus on capturing one of the stones he’s already slotted.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, isn’t that harder?” Lang asked.</p><p>“Extremely,” Thor muttered.  No one seemed to pay any mind though.</p><p>“Harder, but definitely more worthwhile,” Tony agreed.</p><p>“How do you figure?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Because we could reset his clock,” Parker explained.  “Sorry, Jarvis,” he added sheepishly to the construct “but the Mind Stone is the last one to equip because it creates the shortest delay before use.  But if we could remove one of the earlier ones, we could force him to start the process all over again.”</p><p>“That does make sense,” Jarvis admitted.  “Why didn’t I see that?” he murmured to himself.</p><p>“Okay so we want the Tesseract,” Steve said, mind working up a plan.</p><p>“I hate to dampen your spirits,” Thor interrupted “but it’s only a better plan if it’s possible.  I tried,” he added.  “Getting the stone from him is nigh impossible.  For one, the gauntlet is on his arm, which is constantly in motion when he fights.  Just grasping one would be like catching a bullet.  For another, the stones are held in place by some force.  And they are round.  And, as soon as he recognizes the intent, he starts using the stones as bait to lure you in,” Thor continued.  “We must intercept the Mind Stone.”</p><p>Steve gave Thor a hard look, but remained silent.  It was true that Thor had tried to remove the stones in their last encounter.  It was also true that Thanos had enjoyed holding them tauntingly within reach, luring Thor into desperate grasps that ended poorly for him.  But it was also true that Thor had been alone, and unsupported during those attempts.  Not to mention he fact that he’d been far from his best before the tactic had occurred to him. </p><p>Not that that was a surprise.  It was always the demi-god’s impulse to destroy his enemies as expediently as possible.  Attempting to deprive them of their weapons was a tactic of last resort to him.  Steve decided not to say as much at the moment.</p><p>Others were less tactful.  “Just because you couldn’t, doesn’t mean we can’t,” Quill said pointedly.  “I mean we as in all of us,” he added quickly, realizing how that statement could have been taken.</p><p>“I would point out that we cannot fit ‘all of us’ around one even so large as Thanos,” Jarvis said softly.</p><p>“Alright,” Steve said, before anyone else could jump in “both goals have merit, and honestly we have enough people to pursue both.  But before we get into that how is the tree?” he asked, turning to Rocket.</p><p>“His name’s Groot,” Rocket replied.  “I would think that would be easy to remember, being that the only words he speaks are ‘I’ followed by ‘am’ followed by ‘Groot’,” he added sarcastically.  “Seriously, this is the guy we’ve got strategizing for us?” he asked.</p><p>“Rocket!” Gamora snapped, bringing him up short.</p><p>For a moment it appeared that the talking racoon was about to argue.  But, as he looked from face to face in the room, he realized it was a waste of time.  “Fine,” he muttered.  “The tree,” he added in the most moronic voice he could muster “is mostly healed.  But he’s not ready for combat.  That bastard did quite a number on him,” he added in his own voice.</p><p>“Alright,” Steve said, a plan of sorts starting to form.  “I suggest three teams.  Team One: aerial; Tony, Falcon, Wanda, Rocket, and Quill.  Keep to the sky.  Provide support.  And keep an eye out for the Mind Stone.  When it shows try and capture it.”</p><p>“And then what?” Sam asked.  “We had it once before and had to give it up because Thanos could sense it.”</p><p>“We get it off world,” Steve said.  “Try to hide it in the galaxy somewhere.”</p><p>“But if he can sense it-” Mantis asked slowly.</p><p>“It’s very a very close-range sense,” Gamora explained.  “Otherwise Nebula would never have been able to hide one on Ahl Agullo.”</p><p>“Okay, so we get it into interstellar space, somehow,” Sam said.  “I remind you that we’re leaving our ship fifteen minutes flight time away.  And it’s ‘eBay: slightly used’.”</p><p>“I can take care of that,” Tony said.</p><p>“How?” Gamora asked curiously.</p><p>Tony shrugged uncomfortably.  “Let me worry about it,” was all he would say.</p><p>“Why not give it back to Jarvis?” T’Challa asked.  “With his phasing ability he could keep it out of Thanos’s hands indefinitely.”</p><p>“And Thanos would slaughter everyone on your planet until it was surrendered,” Nebula replied harshly, Gamora nodding in agreement.</p><p>“Okay, we’ll call that plan B,” Steve said, with a glance at Tony.  The other remained uncharacteristically silent.  “Team Two,” he continued “Jarvis, Brunnhilde, Thor, Drax, Wade, and myself; we’ll keep Thanos busy, and try to either disarm him of the stones or destroy the gauntlet.”  Thor still looked dubious, but nodded.</p><p>“Team Three: Romanov, Lang, Barnes, Parker, Banner, Gamora, Nebula, T’Challa; deal with Thanos’s remaining generals and children.”  He glanced around the room for dissent.  There was none.  Except for Tony, but sometimes it felt like there was always dissent in that man.  Still, he kept whatever he was thinking to himself.  “Any questions?” Steve asked.</p><p>“What about me?” Mantis asked quietly.</p><p>“I think it’s best if you remain here,” Steve said.</p><p>“I can fight,” Mantis argued.</p><p>“There is no room for empathy on the battlefield,” Drax answered.</p><p>“Drax’s right,” Steve said.  “You may be able to fight, but you’ll never be a fighter.  You’d spend as much time fighting yourself as anyone else.”  Mantis looked as if she wanted to protest.  Instead she looked at the ground in defeat.  They were right; the battle simulations had proven that.  Every hurt she inflicted registered in her perception.  She couldn’t block it out.  She couldn’t hide from it.  She wasn’t even sure she could kill.</p><p>“No, she has to go,” Banner stated firmly, surprising everyone.  He shrugged as their eyes turned to him.  “She’s the only one that can wake the Hulk,” he explained sheepishly.</p><p>“Funny, I don’t recall that ever being an issue,” Natasha said.  Bruce glanced at her, mouth opened to explain, but his embarrassment at his alter ego’s cowardice got in the way.  He looked away again, wondering why he should be ashamed.  Was it because the Hulk had lost his courage?  Or was it because he’d always relied on it?</p><p>“He’s right,” Tony said into the silence.  “But she should stay on the ship.”</p><p>“A getaway driver?” Steve asked.</p><p>“In case we can get one of the stones away from him,” Tony replied.</p><p>“Can you fly?” Steve asked Mantis.</p><p>“Yes-I mean, I have been learning,” came the sheepish reply.</p><p>“I’ve been teaching her,” Quill said.  “She’s a natural.”</p><p>“Well, that settles that,” Steve replied.  “Everyone clear on their assignments?”  Again, he swept the room a question.  Again, there were no takers.  “We have about forty minutes until planet fall.  I suggest everyone do what they need to prepare.”  The room quickly cleared, leaving Tony and Steve staring across the table at each other.</p><p>The uncomfortable silence stretched itself out between them.  Neither wanted to breach it.  Both knew it must be breached.  The tension between them had relaxed somewhat in the last month, but it was most definitely present.  Both of them respected each other.  Both of them would die for each other.  Neither of them was quite certain how they’d come to be on opposite sides, but that gulf still lay between them.  And both were afraid that if they spoke the inevitable argument would widen it.  But they also knew it was a mistake to leave anything unsaid between them.</p><p>Steve finally took the plunge.  “I suppose you have some issue with my plan?” Steve prompted.  Tony glanced up at him, then back to the table between them.  He tried to figure out how to say what needed to be said.  Delicate phrasing had never been his forte; that was what secretaries and personal assistants were for. </p><p>“Not the plan itself,” he said eventually.  “It’s the assignments.”</p><p>“You want to fight Thanos?” Steve asked, one eyebrow arched in surprise.</p><p>“I don’t think anyone here <em>wants</em> to fight Thanos,” Tony said with a tight grin.  “And no, I think you have me where I need to be.  It’s the sisters,” he said with a pause.  No matter how hard he tried he could not figure out how to pad what must be said.  Steve undoubtedly could have, or Banner, or even Romanov.  But they weren’t here, and it needed to be said.  “You’re wasting resources by assigning them to crowd control,” he said finally.</p><p>“Oh?” Steve asked, inviting expansion.</p><p>“They have the most experience with Thanos,” Tony explained gamely.  “They were raised by him, trained by him.  They’ve undoubtedly seen him in action at one point or other.  They know how he moves and how he thinks.  They are probably the most capable people on the ship to face him . . . except maybe for Thor,” Tony added.</p><p>“I’m sure Thor would appreciate the distinction,” Steve said with a tight grin of his own.  Tony grinned back, despite himself.  “And, as to the sisters, I agree,” Steve added seriously.</p><p>Tony’s eyebrows rose in surprise.  “Then why did you assign them to team three?” he asked.</p><p>“Because they’re not ready, Tony,” Steve said bluntly.  “You saw how they reacted when Thanos cut into our feed here,” he added, gesturing to the blank screen.</p><p>“About the same as the rest of us?” Tony hedged.  In honesty, he hadn’t been watching the group.  He’d been trying to work their current problem, get Thanos to agree to give them one last chance.</p><p>Steve shook his head.  “We were startled.  They froze like deer in the headlights.”</p><p>“They were caught off guard,” Tony protested.  “That doesn’t mea-”</p><p>“And they always will be,” Steve cut in.  He took a breath and tried again.  “Tony, part of leadership isn’t just about knowing what your people are capable of.  It’s also about knowing what they are able to accomplish.”</p><p>Tony’s eyes narrowed.  “What’s the difference?” he asked.</p><p>“We agree that they have probably the best capacity of any of us to fight Thanos,” Steve said.  Tony nodded.  “But between that capability and the ability is a lifetime’s worth of terror, and pain, and helplessness.  Yes, they know him best of all of us.  But only because he’s spent so long terrorizing them.  As long as that stands in the way, they’ll never be able to face him.  They must find some way around their history before I’d ever pit them against him.”</p><p>“And how will you know if they take that detour?” Tony asked.</p><p>“We won’t’ know,” Steve said.  “They’ll show us.”</p><p>Tony considered that.  “Well, let’s hope they don’t take too long navigating it,” he said as he got up.  He pushed the chair in, paused and looked back at the other man.  “Good luck Steve,” he said with a novel sincerity.</p><p>“Good luck Tony,” Steve replied, matching his gaze.  They held it for only a moment before Tony turned and left.  “Good luck to us all,” Steve whispered more in the tone of a prayer.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Earth</p><p>Upstate New York</p><p>The Avengers Facility Control Room</p><p> </p><p>“You’re request poses significant issues,” Irani Rael’s image on the screen said.  “First, we’ve never been able to negotiate with the Kree Empire for the secrets of sending capital ships through warp points.  And our own trials in that manner have been . . . less than encouraging,” she added.</p><p>“Then get these Kree to send you,” Tony said.  “Have them send their ships too.”</p><p>Her face hardened.  “Do you understand what you are asking?  It took ten years just to end our last conflict.  They refused to lift a finger when one of their own accusers went rogue and began destroying our colonies.  They would rather-”</p><p>“-I didn’t say it would be easy,” Tony cut in “I said it was necessary.  And their fat’s in the fryer just like the rest of us.”</p><p>She opened her mouth to protest, closed it instead.  “I will try,” she agreed.  “But Thanos’s ship is a fleet killer.  I am unsure if even our two fleets would be enough to destroy it.”</p><p>“Then find others,” Tony said simply.  “There must be more than your two star empires.”</p><p>“There are a few others,” she conceded.  “But the more fleets we bring in the longer it will take to coordinate.”</p><p>“Half an hour,” Tony said. </p><p>“Are you out of your mind?” she demanded.  “Our last offensive against the Kree took six months to plan.”</p><p>“Half an hour is the time you have,” Tony said simply.  “Look, they don’t need to be flying in formation, just get them here.”  She hesitated before giving a curt nod.  “Good,” Tony said.  “And one more thing,” he added, pausing her mid-movement to cut the connection.  “There is every likelihood that we will fail to retrieve one of the stones.  If so . . .” he said, hesitating.</p><p>“What are you asking me?” the Prime asked, already aware of what he was asking. But this was not the sort of request where inference alone was enough.</p><p>Tony hesitated another heartbeat before turning to tap on his console.  “I’m sending you the exact coordinates of our attempt,” he said.  “If we fail, the galaxy’s last hope rests on your fleets.  Bomb him to dust.”</p><p>“There is no guarantee that such an act would injure any person wielding a fully assembled Infinity Gauntlet, let alone Thanos,” Rael replied dubiously.</p><p>Tony shrugged.  “Do it before the Gauntlet comes online.  If nothing else you may be able to break it, or the stones,” he added.</p><p>Rael assumed a thoughtful look.  “There is historical evidence that the stones can be destroyed,” she said.</p><p>Tony assumed a quizzical look.  “Wait, if one of the stones has been destroyed in the past then how do they exist now?” he asked.</p><p>“They are a part of this universe,” came the explanation.  “When one is destroyed it manifests somewhere else, anywhere in the galaxy.  According to legend, the last time Thanos tracked them all down, members of a race known as the Wynx destroyed one -the records are contradictory as to which- starting his quest over.”</p><p>“Great, can you find out how they did it?” Tony asked.</p><p> She shook her head somberly.  “For their intervention Thanos wiped the entire species from the universe,” she said, clearly having drawn the conclusion that, should the Nova Corps succeed in this last-ditch attempt, they too would undoubtedly be subject to the same fate.</p><p>“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Tony said.</p><p>“Agreed,” Rael replied before reaching up to cut the connection.</p><p>Tony nodded to the blank screen before calling up a music list on his console.  He needed something, some music that might crystalize the tenuous nature of their combined groups.  Something . . . he wasn’t sure what.  But they needed it.  They needed something that made them part of a whole.  He scrolled faster and faster, looking for that one thing.  But nothing seemed right.  The situation was not helped by the fact that the others considered his music to be noise.</p><p>“You didn’t really believe we had a chance, did you?” Steve’s voice called from the entrance to the stairwell.</p><p>“What?” Happy snapped, flipping towards the sound.  “How did you get up here?” he demanded.</p><p>“You seemed lost in thought,” Steve said, as if that explained everything.</p><p>“More to the point,” Tony added without turning “how long have you been up here?”</p><p>“Long enough,” Steve said simply.</p><p>Tony turned at that.  “I suppose this is where I get the ‘acting unilaterally: bad’ speech again?” he said, leaning back in his chair, as if to brace himself.</p><p>“No,” Steve said surprisingly.  “That was the right call.  Thanos has to be stopped no matter what.”  Tony examined Steve’s face.  It was as if he couldn’t quite believe they were in agreement. </p><p>“I suppose you want to tell the team,” he guessed, turning back to the console.  His tone alone made it clear that he thought it a bad idea.</p><p>Again, Rogers surprised him.  “No,” he said.  “They don’t need to know they’re working under a loaded barrel.”</p><p>Tony looked up from his lists in surprise, as if checking his memory to ensure that he’d heard what he thought he’d heard.  “So, what brings you up here?” he asked as he went back to scrolling through his lists.  “Or are you just practicing your Nick Fury impersonation?”</p><p>Steve shrugged.  “Honestly I was a bit surprised by your sudden conversion to optimism back on the ship,” he said.  “I suspected it was a front; I see I was right.”</p><p>Tony threw a glance over his shoulder before turning back to his lists.  “What difference does it make,” he asked at last.</p><p>“It makes a difference, Tony,” Steve replied in earnest.  “This isn’t the same pick up group that went up against him a month ago.  We’re a team now.  And we’re a team that is quite possibly better equipped than then, thanks in no small part to you.”</p><p>“It kept me busy,” Tony said with a shrug.</p><p>Steve nodded to himself.  “I thought as much.  But Tony, there is always a chance.  Some of us might not make it to see that chance, but it’s there,” Steve said.  “Never lose sight of that.”</p><p>“I know,” Tony said.  “But we’re betting against the house on this one.  And, honestly, we’d have better odds putting it all on double zero at the roulette table thrice in a row.”</p><p>“I’m surprised you kept that to yourself,” Steve observed.  Tony paused in his scrolling.</p><p>“It’s what they needed to hear,” Tony said finally.</p><p>“That they had a chance?” Steve prompted.  Tony nodded, not making eye contact.  “Why?” Steve asked as if he already knew the answer.</p><p>Tony searched for the words to explain it.  The realm of motivations and morale just wasn’t his normal playing ground.  “Because,” he said at last “a hopeful underdog might work miracles where a despairing man accepts his fate.”  He glanced up at Steve as if to ask ‘was I right?’.</p><p>“So, you gave them hope so they would fight with everything they had,” Steve said.  Tony nodded slowly.  “You probably should have kept some for yourself,” he added softly.</p><p>“It doesn’t work that way when you know the odds,” Tony said wistfully.</p><p>“Tony, I have no doubt that you’ve analyzed each of us over the course of this month and created a series of projections on the outcome of this mission.  No doubt those simulations are too complex for most of us to understand all of the factors.  The truth is I don’t need to understand them to know that there is one person here that you’ve undervalued.”</p><p>Tony’s face turned quizzical.  “Look, I’ll grant that Banner’s alter ego is very powerful-” Tony started before a headshake from Steve stopped him.</p><p>“I wasn’t referring to Banner,” Steve said.  “I was talking about you.”  Tony’s face automatically expressed his complete denial of that.  “I’m not messing with you Tony,” Steve said, a hard edge to his voice.  It was probably the first time he’d ever used a command voice on his friend.  “You’re fighting skills have improved immeasurably.  I saw that even before this insanity had begun, back when we were on opposing sides.  It was getting harder and harder for you to pretend you <em>weren’t</em> letting us escape.”</p><p>Tony gave a surprised look.  “You certainly gave me enough opportunities to practice,” he said wryly.</p><p>“Yeah,” Steve agreed.  “But my point is,” Steve continued “that you are one of the most effective people we have on this tub.  You’re certainly the most versatile.  And we need you at your best.  You have to believe you have a chance too.”</p><p>“I get what you’re saying Steve,” Tony said “but I don’t need hope; I’ve got you guys.”</p><p>“I’m sorry?” Steve asked, not following.</p><p>“I’m just saying you don’t have to worry about me giving my best,” Tony said.  “Anything less would be betraying you.”</p><p>Steve blinked in surprise.  He never thought he’d hear a soldier’s mentality spoken so well, so simply, and from Tony Stark.  And yet, as he considered it, he couldn’t say it was out of place.  Tony was not a man to do things by halves.  He might not have always made the right choice, but whatever he did was always done the best it could be done and with the best of intentions.</p><p>Now it was Steve’s turn to search for the appropriate words.  “Tony,” he said slowly “there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now.  But it never seemed the right time.  I never seemed to figure out how to say it without sounding . . . arrogant or presumptuous.  And then the whole Accords thing happened . . .” he said, trailing off.</p><p>“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad,” Tony prompted.</p><p>Steve nodded, took a breath, and tried again.  “I didn’t really know your father well, Tony,” he started, focusing on Tony’s face.  “I only worked with him three times.  Hell, the first time we didn’t even speak,” he added, thinking back to his pre-capsicle days, as Tony liked to put it.  “But I can tell you this: Wherever he is, I know he couldn’t be prouder of you.”</p><p>Tony blinked with his entire head, as if he’d been hit right between the eyes.  The compliment had been completely unexpected.  More to the point, the way Steve had delivered it left no room for doubt.  It was as if, for that moment, his friend had been channeling his father. </p><p>He’d never realized how much he’d needed to hear that his father was proud of him.  He’d thought he’d left that behind.  But deep down, there was still that little boy inside of him, learning integrated circuits at his father’s knee. </p><p>He opened his mouth to say something, but for the first time in as long as he could remember he wasn’t sure of what to say.  Before he could correct that Steve was gone.</p><p>Tony turned back to his console, stunned.  It was almost like he’d lost his father a second time.  But this time . . . no bitterness or regret.  It was a bittersweet feeling, and one he couldn’t have been happier to feel.  He felt like crying.  His eyes watered.  Nothing fell.</p><p>Eventually he realized he was looking at his lists.  And suddenly he knew which song to play.  A song that he’d passed by on his first pass as too melancholy.  But now, it seemed to be the only choice.  He scrolled back up the list and punched it.  The <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9Dg-g7t2l4&amp;ab_channel=Disturbed">Sound of Silence</a> as reimagined by Disturbed spread through the entire facility.</p><p>He sat and listened for a moment, before getting up to don his suit.  Throughout the facility it reached the ears of the various team members.  Each stopped momentarily in whatever they were doing.  Those that knew the song smiled at its choice.  Quill immediately placed it above the original version he’d heard all his life.  Those that hadn’t, listened for the first time.</p><p>“Friday, I’m leaving the rest of the playlist to you,” Tony said as he headed for the elevator.  He exited it at the ground floor to find Quill and Steve waiting for him. </p><p>“You ready for this?” Quill asked.</p><p>Tony gave a short nod.  “Let’s kick his ass,” he said, actually feeling for the first time like they might.  The three of them started across the lobby to the door.  As they went, the rest of the team fell into line in ones and twos. </p><p>Up in the control room Happy went to his security station.  He had to stop his hand from instinctively hitting the alarm as he realized what he was seeing on the screen.  But what was displayed was not a threat.  There was no need for an alarm.</p><p>Instead, as the main door opened to reveal the team, he hit the exterior floodlights.  A sea of desperately hopeful faces blazed into the night.  Hundreds of people of every race, every age, every gender spread out between the facility and the waiting Quinjet.  Many could be seen mouthing silent prayers.  Many more simply looked upon the team, almost begging them for a sign of hope.  There was no telling where they’d come from, or how they’d arrived so quickly.</p><p>It hit them all equally; it didn’t matter if they’d never set foot on Earth before.  It was like a tidal wave of emotion.  For a moment they simply stared at that see of anticipation.  Then Tony stepped forward, followed closely by Steve and Quill.  The others followed suit.</p><p>In many ways that walk was the hardest any of them had ever made.  Yet it was also the easiest.  There was an overwhelming feeling of anticipation, but also of acceptance.  For the Dark Avengers it was almost more than they could bear. </p><p>But the one it hit the hardest was Nebula.  That sense of acceptance, of people depending on her, was almost more than she could stand.  She’d always been the monster.  She’d learned to embrace it.  She’d had plenty of people look upon her, desperately begging for mercy she didn’t dare give.  But this was different, and she wasn’t sure why.</p><p>One little girl at the edges of the crowd seemed to sense her internal struggle and reached out to grab her metal hand as she passed.  Nebula turned hastily, to see her.  But she didn’t really see that girl.  She saw herself.  She saw Gamora.  She saw every boy and girl that had ever been corrupted by the great monster.  Then Nebula’s progress forward slipped their hands apart and she continued forward, yet another feeling she could not describe warring within her.</p><p>The team passed the rest of the way to the jet without incident.  The iron legion was there ensuring the crowd maintained a safe distance.  They filed past that barrier and into the jet in silence.  In fact, the entire passage had been conducted in utter silence.  A few moments later the jet lifted straight into the air before heading for New York city.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Castle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>New York, New York</p><p>Yankee Stadium</p><p> </p><p>Frank Castle scanned the interior of the King Stallion helicopter he and his team were embarked on.  The faces around him were tense.  Too tense.  The entire task force was made up of combat veterans, but even veterans could be excused a level of nervousness when going up against these odds.  None of them had ever gone up against supervillains before. </p><p>As for Frank, he wasn’t sure how he felt.  He’d already been through so many situations that should have killed him.  It had all begun to blur.  Somewhere along the way he’d come to the conclusion that he would die in battle.  He had no idea when that would be, and he most definitely was not going to make it easy for them, but he would eventually fall.  It took some of the suspense out of the situation.  But his team.</p><p>They looked nervous.</p><p>“Take a look around you, yeah?  What do you see?” he asked.  There was no response.  Not from any resentment of his being placed in charge of this mixed bag of elite specialists.  On the contrary, they’d held him in almost reverent regard since the moment they’d met, two weeks prior.  Any of half a dozen of his exploits in Afghanistan would have been enough to cement him in ‘Legend’ status.  Then there were his activities after returning home.</p><p>A part of him had immediately wanted to explain the other things he’d done over there, but he’d stifled that.  He didn’t need them second guessing him as much as he still second guessed himself.</p><p>“Marine Recon,” he continued, ticking the points off on his fingers “Delta, Navy Seals, SAS, Sayeret Matkal, Spetsnaz.  The list continues, yeah?” he asked, pausing for effect.  “You represent the most elite soldiers in the world,” he continued.  Again, there was no response, unless you counted a very slight glint of pride in their eyes; these people were the consummate professional soldier.</p><p>“We are used to being the best equipped, best trained, and most experienced participants in any conflict,” he said, glancing from team member to team member.  “We make things happen.  We directly affect the course of battle.” </p><p>He let that statement air itself out, looking from one team member to the next.  “That’s not the case here, yeah?” he asked, adding a touch of steel to his voice.  Again, they were silent, though there was a slight tightening of their jaws.  They’d all seen what little intel they had to work with.  They knew they were the ones at a force disadvantage on this one.  They knew it.</p><p>Castle said it anyways.  He had to make sure they got it.  “Intel suggests that our opponents have been in constant war since they were children.  They have been biologically and technologically engineered for it.  It is highly unlikely that we will earn many kills this day, even with the M107A1.  We are David, they are Goliath.  And we don’t have the sling, just rocks, yeah?”  Again, they were silent, but he could sense a growing feeling of stubbornness.  These people weren’t used to being told they could not make a difference.</p><p>“We will make a difference,” he assured them.  “We’re going to be smart about it.  Don’t go for the kill shot.  Go for the harassing shot.  Knock them down.  Disarm them.  Help the people that can kill them, yeah?”</p><p>“Summed up, we’re crowd control,” one of Brits said dryly.  Castle couldn’t tell if he was just being sarcastic or if he was also upset about being assigned to such a plebian task.  He decided to ignore the comment entirely.</p><p>“There are no suitable buildings anywhere around the target; we’ll post up on the east wall and the roof.  Teams one and two stage yourselves around the Yankee Stadium sign on the North East wall.  Group three on the East wall under the Delta sign.  The rest of you, spread yourselves out around the short roof over the third deck.  I’ll be in the skybox.”</p><p>“How come you get the best seat in the house?” One of the Seals asked playfully.  He was inarguably the youngest member in the squad.  Volunteered for CRT at his earliest opportunity.  Made it through on the first try.  Didn’t even get caught during SEAR training.  And, apparently, one of the best sharpshooters in the special forces community.  Cocky to boot.  He reminded Castle way too much of himself.</p><p>Castle answered with a hard look.  He held it until the kid seemed appropriately subdued before continuing.  “No one fires until I give the word, yeah?” he asked, scanning their faces.  There was no disagreement.  “The range is short on this one,” he continued anyways, partly just to fill the chopper ride.  It was good not to give people too much time to think about the shitstorm they were walking into.  “Once we open up we’ll attract unwanted attention.  Remember Rule One: Always heed the itch.  Better to move when you didn’t have to than not move when you should have.  Spotters, keep one eye out for danger, yeah?”</p><p>He got a grim but affirmative nod from the group.  He returned it before leaning back in his chair.  He wondered how many of them would heed his warnings, and hoped the pilot wasn’t taking the scenic route.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>The Quinjet landed in front of the player’s entrance of Yankee Stadium.  They would have liked to have landed in the field itself, but one look showed it to be teeming with Thanos’s . . . extended family.  While setting down on a few wouldn’t have bothered most of them, the retaliation that could spark would most certainly have destroyed the plane.  And they needed it intact.</p><p>For a heartbeat nobody moved, as if each were waiting for somebody else to take the lead.  Even Rogers seemed unwilling for that split second.  They all knew what they were walking into.  They all knew the odds of success.</p><p>They’d faced long odds before, but they’d never had so much time to contemplate them.  Nor had they been beaten so handily in previous encounters.  Thanos truly seemed the clichéd force of nature.  And, this time, the consequences were so high.  Even distributed amongst them, the weight of half a universe was crushing.</p><p>That single heartbeat seemed to stretch on and on, but eventually their shared moment of indecision passed.  Steve shook himself and stood from his seat.  He grabbed his shield, squared his shoulders, and began to march to the aft of the ship, face set in stone.  The ship was suddenly filled with the rustling of the others following his example.  Gamora and Nebula were the second and third to last out, with Tony bringing up the rear.</p><p>He exited the ship to see the entire gang grouped up in front of the shutter blocking the player’s garage, as if unsure of whether or not the end of days permitted them to destroy public property.</p><p>Tony rolled his eyes and stepped through the crowd.  “On the clock, remember guys?” he asked as he lasered an uneven rectangle out of the door.  Steve then bounced his shield off of it, sending the photonically perforated metal crashing to the ground.</p><p>Tony took the lead through the maze of corridors, guided by Friday.  This time Rogers brought up the rear.</p><p>It took more time than they could afford to lose, and far less time than they would have liked, but they quickly found themselves at the door leading to the field.  It seemed an incredibly unassuming door for the purpose, just a grey painted, metal, single door.</p><p>“Wait sec, Tony” Steve said as Tony reached for its handle.  Everyone turned a querying look his direction.</p><p>“I’m not going to waste time reminding you of why we’re here,” he said.  As he spoke, he made sure to make eye contact with each set of eyes turned on him.  “You already know that.  We all know the odds against us,” he continued.  “This may well be our last battlefield.”  He let that stand for a moment before continuing.</p><p>“I’m just a soldier,” he said.  “Soldier’s die.  Sometimes the best a soldier can hope for is that our deaths have meaning, that our life not be wasted.  Now we’ve already taken losses.  We’ve lost good people: Heimdall . . . Clint . . . Rhodes,” he said.  Each name was like a small hammer blow in their minds.  Each name had one person who mourned them more than the others, one person who visibly flinched at its invocation.  “In a moment we’re going to go out there, on that field, and we’re going to fight that monster.  The dead gave us that chance through their sacrifices.  Let’s make sure it was worth the price they paid.”</p><p>Their eyes hardened slightly with resolve.  The fate of a universe was an abstract thing.  It’s hard to latch on to abstracts in the heat of the moment.  Doing right by three fallen comrades was an emotional thing, easily understood.  For Thor, Natasha, and Tony it was something else.  Steve may not have used the word ‘vengeance’, but in their cases, he may as well have.</p><p>There was only one person his speech seemed to have had a negative effect on.  As the others began filing through that gateway Bucky stood gazing morosely into an unseen distance.</p><p>“Hey,” Steve said, grabbing his right shoulder and giving it a slight shake.  Bucky snapped out of it, returning a questioning look.  “You okay?” Steve asked.</p><p>Barnes hesitated.  “Yeah,” he said slowly.  “I was just thinking about all the people who died so <em>I</em> could be here,” he said.</p><p>“You think Hydra may have done some good in spite of itself?” Steve said with a wry grin.</p><p>“What?” Bucky asked, confused.</p><p>“Well, you’re here,” Steve said pointedly.  “Might just make the difference,” he added, stepping past his friend.</p><p>Now it was Barnes’s turn to flash a wry grin.  “Wouldn’t that stick in their craw?” he asked before turning to follow.  The only two to remain in the corridor were Banner and Mantis.</p><p>“Now?” Mantis asked.</p><p>The object of her query shook his head.  “Not yet,” he said tersely, not wanting to admit his fear that, should he Hulk out before the fighting started, the Hulk might lose his nerve again.  She nodded, as if she understood his unspoken fear, and they turned back to the door.</p><p>Cap and Bucky were just taking their place at the center of the line their team had formed ten feet from the door.  Most of the stadium was as dark as the night sky.  The only illumination came from somewhere over second base, where Thanos sat in a hovering stone throne.  The area around him, out to the baselines and extending into the outfield, was filled with his ‘children’.</p><p>They stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting like Doberman Pinscher attack dogs.  The further they were from Thanos the more eerily that one light source played about them, an effect not helped by the fact that many of them had glowing eyes.  Thanos’s generals were also in attendance.  They could be seen dotting the field, rising head and shoulders over the more common threats.  The entire view conjured up the worst fears of humanity, no doubt the artist’s intent.</p><p>“Well there you are,” Thanos said, as if truly pleased to see them.  “And here I was thinking you’d lost your nerve.”</p><p>“You mean you were hoping we’d lost our nerve,” Deadpool replied.</p><p>“Not at all,” Thanos replied.  “It would have been quite anti-climactic.”</p><p>“You’re quite eager for someone that had to be goaded into this,” Cap remarked.</p><p>Thanos’s grin widened as if he appreciated his chutzpah.  “Oh, not for me,” he said.  “For the huddled masses of the universe, watching your feeble attempts.”  Several of them glanced up to the light source hovering at the top of the stadium.  It was a simple black sphere with gold trim.  Small lens like protrusions dotted its surface.</p><p>“Correct,” Thanos continued.  “The entire universe shall watch your efforts.  They will hope.  They will pray.  And, ultimately, they will despair.  You will fail as they watch.  And when you have, those of you that I designate shall begin their training.”</p><p>A visible ripple of vacillation passed through their line as they realized that they weren’t just fighting for the survival of half of a universe; that the penalty for failure might be far worse than death. </p><p>Thanos saw it, of course.  He seemed to bask in their uncertainty.  “Many of you shall make fine additions to my family,” he said, eyes roving over their line.  As they went, they seemed to linger upon certain individuals more than others.  That gaze seemed particularly toxic when turned towards Gamora and Nebula.  But they weren’t the only ones singled out.  Deadpool, Wanda, Barnes, and Brunnhilde were all afforded that honor.</p><p>Then his eyes rested on Black Widow’s.  It wasn’t a long pause, but it was long enough.</p><p>The doors behind the Guardians and Avengers came off their hinges as the Hulk exploded from the entryway.  He leapt the line of allies, wielding the two doors like giant rectangular ulus.  He landed in front of home base and proceeded to carve a path through the minions towards Thanos’s position.  He knocked Corvus Glaive aside like a stuffed doll in his single-minded pursuit of his target.</p><p>The entire team surged forward, as if the Hulk’s actions were a catalyst.  The Aerial Team launched into their element and began strafing the enemy.  Team Two followed in the Hulk’s wake.  Team three spread itself out in a skirmish line, minus Gamora and Nebula.  Those two immediately began circling their way towards Proxima Midnight, standing in right field.</p><p>Thanos watched the green goliath come, seeming . . . less than concerned.  Bored would probably be a better description.  But with a hint of wounded pride, as if the very idea that such an attack would accomplish anything against him were insulting.  This attitude was confirmed when he spoke.</p><p>“Well, if it isn’t the raging infant,” he sneered as the Hulk cut his way to the pitcher’s mound.  Then he raised his arm towards the object of his disdain, hand flat and palm up.  As he lifted it the Hulk found himself levitated into the air.  Hulk bellowed and hurled his mangled doors at Thanos. </p><p>His target calmly hopped off of his throne to the right, dodging one of the improvised projectiles.  Such was the downward angle by the time Hulk had thrown them that it bounced off of the ground harmlessly before becoming embedded in the far right wall.</p><p>Thanos blocked the other with a casual forearm wave.  The armor took the blow without showing so much as a scrape.  The same could not be said for the minion to his right the deflected shot impaled.  Thanos did not show any concern.</p><p>Hulk growled and grunted as he fought against the invisible bonds that left him suspended in the air, but he could find no purchase.  There was nothing to struggle against, no barrier he could push back against.  He flailed at the air, looking for anything that might help, but to no avail.  It was as if gravity itself had conspired against him.</p><p>Below him, the wake from his rapid passage suddenly collapsed on team 2.  They found themselves in a small circle, fighting off a baseball diamond’s worth of enemies.  If it had not been for their shiny new neutronium weapons they’d no doubt have been overrun already.  As it was a bulwark of dead enemies, and pieces of enemies, had begun to form around them.</p><p>At first, it seemed to offer some protection.  Then Thanos’s children began launching themselves from atop their fallen brethren.</p><p>The aerial team tried to attack directly, in the hopes that they might break Thanos’s concentration on the Hulk, but to little use.  Most of them were intercepted by fire or thrown projectiles, with the few shots that got through doing little damage.  And, without their support team two found itself being pressed harder and harder. </p><p>Wanda tried to counteract Thanos’s control, but she simply wasn’t strong enough to override him.  She could try to overpower him, but the net effect would have been to have two separate forces pushing and pulling against the person she was trying to rescue.  While she didn’t think they could kill him that way she wasn’t sure enough to try.  Besides, even if they couldn’t she might make the Hulk mad at her. </p><p>In the end they were all forced to accept that there was no way to extract their secret weapon.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Irani Rael stood on the Nova Prime flagship and attempted to appear calm.  Her ship was about to be the first Xandar vessel of its size to make a jump.  And, among other firsts, it was going to be propelled by the Kree vessel following almost on its tail.  Put another way, they were trusting a nominal enemy to propel them across the galaxy with a mixed bag of technologies.</p><p>Under such circumstances she certainly understood the nervousness being expressed by the entire bridge crew.  Even the captain wasn’t unaffected, though he tried to hide his discomfort.   she refused to add to their worries.  She tried harder; she was damned if she was going to add to their concerns.</p><p>Ironically, the one aspect of the situation she found reassuring was the Kree’s initial unwillingness.  She’d contacted Kree sovereign, as that somewhat arrogant Earther had suggested, and received exactly the rebuff she’d expected.  Work together?  Preposterous!  Their two empires had only recently made the transition to not blowing each other’s ships out of the sky at first sight.  Trust was a long way off.</p><p>Then Thanos had started his broadcast.  The Avengers and Guardians hadn’t even arrived on sight yet, but he’d used that time to describe, in his typical smug superior tone, exactly why he was interrupting the universe’s programming for this late breaking news bulletin.</p><p>The Kree, and the Shi’ar Imperium surprisingly, had then mustered their ready fleets to meet the remains of the Nova Squadron fleet at a neutral location.  She hadn’t even contacted the Shi’ar.  They’d contacted her, wanting to know if Nova intended to attempt to intervene.  And suddenly the shoe had been on the other foot. </p><p>Not that the question hadn’t made sense; of all the polities in the galaxy Nova Prime was the most likely to do something about the current situation.  But that didn’t necessitate any desire to help on their part.  If she admitted she was sending the remains of her fleet on this forlorn battle she was also admitting that she was leaving her planets virtually undefended.  Instead of sending ships to help them she could be inviting the very invasion that fleet existed to stop.</p><p>But she’d squeezed that fear down and given them the rendezvous coordinates.  And now here they were, departing that same location as one fleet.  It was an incredibly poorly coordinated fleet, one that had almost suffered three collisions just getting set up for the jump, but it was a fleet.</p><p>All those thoughts slipped from her mind as they reached the jump point.  There was the slightest amount of queasiness that she’d long before learned to expect from such events, then they were through.  The young man sitting at damage control reported that a number of relays had blown from their passage, but that the backups had switched over smoothly.  Damage control teams were already replacing the burnt out components.</p><p>All around them other jump gates were opening and expelling their duos and even trios of ships.  First one, then a couple, then dozens.  In less than a minute the sky over the Earth was flooded with the ships of three different stellar empires, all on a desperate bid to stop the inevitable.</p><p>The Nova ships immediately began boosting towards their target, the massive Sanctuary 2.  As the ships with the best defensive systems it had made sense to put them at the forefront of their charge, the tip of the spear.</p><p>She was mildly surprised when the Shi’ar and Kree ships followed so closely on their heels.  As sloppy as they were, she couldn’t help feel a touch of pride in those varying crews.  And the eagerness with which that combined force opened fire was . . . hopeful, despite the two friendly fire incidents in the first volley.  They glanced off of shields or armor as Rael hoped they would be the last.  She was too seasoned a commander to believe in that hope.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Castle watched the frantic efforts of the Guardians and the Avengers with an indecision he hadn’t felt in a long time.  Then again, it had been a long time since he’d led men.  Lately, it seemed he’d only been risking his own life in insane, long odds actions.  Now he had an entire team he was looking at throwing into the fire.</p><p>“Sir?” Sergeant Baker prodded over coms, as if reading his mind.</p><p>“Hold,” was all Castle replied with.</p><p>The problem was they weren’t ready.  If he had his team open up now, with no other external threats to cover their work, they’d be zeroed immediately.  He had no idea how long operators, even operators as skilled as his team were, could survive against that.  The evidence of just how hard it was to kill these things was playing out in front of them.  Full on superheroes were having trouble doing more than knocking them on their asses, despite whatever those swords were made of.</p><p>“Where are they?” Lieutenant Gibbs muttered just loud enough to be picked up by his mic.</p><p>“Coming,” Castle replied absently.  But that was the rub.  His team was supposed to project force from the edges of the engagement range while other threats held the enemy’s attention.  They were supposed to sabotage the enemy’s efforts, de-coordinate their attacks, throw monkey wrenches into their efforts.  That was the plan.  But the pieces that plan relied on weren’t present.  The modernized words of Helmuth von Moltke, that no plan survives contact with the enemy, sprang into his mind.</p><p>The plan had been for them to sabotage the enemy.  But the goal had always been to help these two groups achieve <em>their</em> goal.  He could wait, hoping for the rest of the pieces of the plan to materialize.  But if he did, there was every chance that their biggest piece would be taken before that could happen.  And, in chess, it was not at all uncommon to sacrifice a few pawns to protect a queen.</p><p>“Sir?” one of the other members of the squad -for some reason he could never remember the man’s name- urged.  Castle couldn’t help but grin at that.  How many times had the correct course been completely obvious to him while a dickering CO tried to make up his mind?  Now he understood why they dickered.  The weight of one’s own life was balanced by their commitment, by their choice to be there.  Nothing balanced the weight of others.</p><p>Castle cleared his throat, a harsh growling sound.  “Wait a ten count from my shot,” he said as he tracked a new target.  Maybe they couldn’t play the sabotage game, but they could certainly draw some heat off.</p><p>Castle fired.  The massive fifty BMG bullet impacted Thanos’s forehead right above the brow . . . and bounced off.  The best that could be said about the hit was that it had rocked the purple simian’s head back a little.  Castle blinked in surprise.  He’d seen the intel.  He’d warned his people of just how out class they were.  But he’d never really believed that anything could stand up to fifty BMG.</p><p>Thanos glared up at the box from which the impetuous shot had rung.  Suddenly, half a dozen of his minions took flight, headed for his position.  They were met half way by crossfire from the rest of his team.  More detached themselves from the melee, racing towards the exits to the field, no doubt with orders to work their way through the innards of the stadium to this new annoyance.</p><p>Castle shook his shock off and aimed back down his sites, firing at the fire team that clearly had his team’s name on it.  They might not have been able to hurt the big boss, but they were certainly able to damage his cohorts.  Many of them never made it to the doors.  More took their places.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Gamora and Nebula hammered at Proxima Midnight with a single-minded fanaticism.  The rest of the stadium had ceased to exist for them.  The other combatants, even their allies were faded memories.  Only those two and their target existed.  Except when another of their brethren attempted to interfere.  Those were cut down with almost no thought by a teamwork that had startled both of them.</p><p>They’d spent the last month in a situation that was heartbreakingly familiar, and conditions that were totally alien to them.  They were both no stranger to pit fights, but never had they experienced such an environment.  Lack of punishment for losing was hard enough for them to get used to, but the concept that the winner might proceed to explain how their opponent might defend themselves from their attacks in the future was completely foreign.  And then there were the team fights.  Thanos rarely encouraged his ‘kin’ to work together, so Gamora and Nebula had never realized the type of teamwork they could achieve.</p><p>Yet, even that hadn’t been enough.  Just getting through the taller woman’s reach was problematic enough, but Proxima had elected to keep her spear close, no doubt out of concern that it might be used against them again.  No one was her equal in such fighting.  And not even Gamora’s neutronium blade, or Nebula’s neutronium tonfas seemed capable of breaking it.  The best that could be said of their efforts was that they had kept their target from affecting the rest of the battle.</p><p>They circled their quarry looking for an opening; none presented itself.  They both charged.  Proxima beat them back with contemptuous ease.  Gamora narrowly avoided the spear’s tip before they both made it back out of range.</p><p>“Proxima, help us,” Gamora pleaded.  In response Nebula and Proxima vied for most incredulous look.</p><p>“Help you?” Proxima asked in a voice that matched her face.  “The entire family witnessed my disgrace because of you,” she grated.  “You will pay for that.  I will watch as-” she started.  Then Gamora struck.  It was a wild, overbalanced blow, more in a desperate gamble to get inside the reach of that poisonous staff before it could be brought to bear than from anything resembling a sound tactic.</p><p>It almost worked.  She managed to catch Proxima slightly off guard, which meant she made it within a foot of her target before ending up on the receiving end of a butt stroke from a staff.  The blow turned her dive into a spin that landed her a few feet to the side of her goal.  Gamora looked up to see the spear’s head pointed downward at her.  Then suddenly it wasn’t.</p><p> Nebula had been ever so slightly slower than Proxima in recognizing the fraudulent nature of Gamora’s overture.  When she realized what Gamora had been up to, she charged.  If not for the anger that overture had aroused, Proxima would most likely have killed them both then and there.  But for a split second she forgot about Nebula in her need to kill Gamora.  And in that moment Nebula struck.</p><p>She did not attack Proxima directly.  Instead she grabbed the haft of the spear with her left hand and pulled down, adding her weight to her momentum.  As she slid under Proxima’s raised arm she smashed her right tonfa into the nerve plexus Proxima’s species kept just under the elbow.  The hand holding the spear lost its grip momentarily.  And in that moment Nebula wrenched down on the back half with all her strength.</p><p>The spear came free, rolling over the suddenly clumsy hand.  Nebula dropped her last tonfa to catch it, turning its roll into a spin that aimed the head of the spear at Proxima’s face.  Proxima ducked under it and aimed a jab at Nebula’s midsection.  It went wide when Gamora’s sword slashed across her calf.</p><p>Proxima rolled backwards to gain some space.  The other two women followed, pressing their advantage.  Nebula almost lost the spear on her next swing.  Proxima stepped inside the weapon’s arc, blocked it with her off forearm, and grabbed the haft with her other hand.  She would have had no trouble yanking her property from its smaller, weaker holder, but an upward slash from Gamora interrupted her efforts.</p><p>Nebula decided to switch gears.  Instead of giving Proxima more chances to regain her property, she began using it as bait.  She quit trying to do damage with it, instead relying on quick attacks designed to draw the taller woman’s response. </p><p>Gamora knew exactly what she was about.  Every time Proxima went for the bait Gamora would be there inflicting another sting.  She still couldn’t land a heavy blow, but all those little cuts started adding up.</p><p>By the time Proxima realized what was going on it was too late to stop it.  She caught Gamora with a massive backhand that sent the green woman sprawling, and made one last desperate swing at the spear.  This time Nebula thrust it at her midsection.  It did not arrive.</p><p>Proxima caught the spear just behind the head, fixing Nebula with a truly malevolent grin.  Nebula tried to overpower the larger woman, but she was still too strong.  Slowly, ever so slowly, the spear was pushed away from its target.  Nebula knew that in a moment it would be twisted around and plunged into her torso, but there was nothing she could do about it.  She was stuck.  If she let go now, she’d only hasten that eventuality.</p><p>Proxima’s grin faltered as Gamora’s blade cut through the tendons behind her knees.  She toppled over onto her back in pain as Gamora added her hands to Nebula’s.  Between the two of them they were able to force the spear through Proxima’s grasp and into her chest.</p><p>For a moment the general seemed to be resisting the wasting effects of the spear.  Then they spread, far more rapidly than usual.  She just had time to release a howl demanding vengeance.</p><p>From across the park came an answering howl.  Corvus Glaive forgot about the systematic destruction of Thor he’d embarked upon to charge across the field, through his own allies more often than not, after them.</p><p>Thor glanced from that retreating form back to see his brother. Any hope that his brother might have resisted Thanos’s control over the last five weeks died in his chest as he took in his brother’s demeanor.</p><p>This was how their fight had started not two minutes prior</p><p>“Loki,” he’d said mournfully, hopefully.  There’d been the faintest answering flicker in his brother’s face.  Then Loki had attacked.</p><p>Thor quickly realized he was fighting an apparition of his brother’s, and tried to game out at which point Loki would step from the shadows to surprise him.  But he never did.  Thor kept expecting it, but he just never materialized.</p><p>Which only made him more paranoid about it.  And, he’d been so focused on watching out for that particular threat that he’d never even seen Corvus Glaive step up behind him.  He’d barely managed to sidestep the massive general’s glaive.  As he did so he cast his hammer at the taller monster’s face, sending him reeling backwards.</p><p>Unfortunately, Black Dwarf had chosen that moment to make Thor’s fight his business.  As Thor had taken a step back from his cast, Dwarf’s fist hammered him into the ground from above.  It moved to allow the other fist its turn, at which point they alternated.  At first Thor tried to roll out of the way.  Then he tried to call his hammer.  But another fist fell, breaking his concentration.  The hammer fell to the ground.  Thor had to content himself with simply doing his best to block those massive fists.  By the end he was barely conscious.</p><p>Black Dwarf’s grin grew as Thor’s attempts to defend himself wavered.  Fire fell all around him from the aerial team.  He ignored it. </p><p>Loki’s apparition stood watching as those fists fell, a feigned look of compassion on its face.  “Ooh,” it said.  “That does appear to hurt.”</p><p>Then the fists stopped.  Dwarf had just enough time to realize that something even bigger than him had just latched onto his back.</p><p>“Remember me?” Antman asked, before hurling the monstrosity away from the Asgardian.  The two of them squared off, Thor completely forgotten.</p><p>Thor groaned and rolled over, calling his hammer.  He barely caught it in time to block another downward thrust by Corvus.  He cast the hammer back at Corvus’s face, but his target dodged to the side at the last second and made ready another attack.</p><p>Thor managed to roll to avoid it, but he rolled in such a way that Corvus was between him and his returning hammer.  Before Corvus could make another attack, the hammer slammed him aside.</p><p>But, as he’d fallen, he’d managed to kick Thor in the face, sending the Asgardian sprawling yet again in the dirt.  The hammer dropped to the ground.  Had Corvus renewed his attack immediately he would no doubt have killed Thor.  The Asgardian was completely isolated from the rest of his friends, and barely conscious.</p><p>But a shriek from the other side of park drew his attention elsewhere.  As he realized what that yell signified, he lost all thought of Thor; a thirst for vengeance had pushed everything else out of his twisted mind as he charged through the fray.</p><p>Not that Thor would have survived much longer against Thanos’s regulars.  The aerial team did what they could to protect him as he tried to shake the cobwebs Black Dwarf had pounded into his head out, but they had to stay airborne.  They had to be in position to intercept the Mind Stone when it appeared.</p><p>Spiderman was not under those constraints.  He webbed a hop from Falcon as he passed by.  Once in the air, he webbed the hammer.  It had been his goal to use the hammer as a pivot point to swing himself into the closest of Thanos’s goons.</p><p>Instead the hammer came to him.  Sheer shock kept him from correcting his tumble for a moment, as his intended anchor moved on him.  Then he corrected, landing lightly on his feet next the groggy Asgardian.  The hammer swung down through the nearest of the advancing minions.</p><p>Against any normal opponents that would have been enough to cause some consternation.  But these just kept coming, like automatons.  Peter drew the webbing in leaving a forearm’s length attached to the hammer.  He stood over Thor, swinging it like a ball and chain.  As anyone drew into range, he would loose that potential energy into a devastating blow that sent them flying back the way they’d come.</p><p>Not that such carnage seemed to deter the next contestant.  Instead, they started attacking in twos and threes.  Meanwhile, earlier recipients were picking themselves back up to head back into the fight.  Many of them had to hobble back into the fray, but not enough.  A few, a very few, remained where his blow had landed them.</p><p>The pressure continued to mount on Peter as he worked to defend Thor.  It wasn’t too bad when they came at him in groups from one side of the ring he’d carved in their territory.  It was when they tried to pincer him that he began having problems.  Some were met with kicks and throws instead of magic hammer.</p><p>Thor was only unconscious for a minute or so, but in that time Peter found himself hemmed into an ever decreasing circle.  The teenager was just starting to wonder how much longer he was going to be able to keep that monstrous horde away from Thor when the hammer stopped obeying his commands.</p><p>It stopped, mid swing, and accelerated past Peter.  While he was still grappling with that, bolts of lightning tore from the sky in a circle around his position.  His antagonizers went flying backwards as he crouched against the sudden compression of air.</p><p>Peter turned to see Thor in the process of regaining his feet.  The Asgardian gave him a quick look of respect.  Peter replied with a jauntily sketched salute, before hitching a ride on Falcon once again.</p><p> </p><p>The Hulk watched his friends scrabbling to survive from inside his prison of force with an increasing sense of frustration.  None had been seriously injured as of yet, but that was bound to change.  They were surviving by the skin of their teeth and he wasn’t sure how much longer their luck would hold out.  They needed him.  But there was nothing he could do.  He’d finally encountered the one obstacle that he couldn’t smash through.  He had no leverage.</p><p>He sank to his knees.  Helplessness replaced rage.  Banner replaced Hulk.</p><p>Banner placed his hands on the bubble imprisoning him and watched the battle below take shape.  He tried to console himself with the fact that he was taking Thanos’s telekinetic abilities out of the picture, but it was of little comfort.  All he could do was hope that his friends could do what needed to be done without him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not a taxi cab, kid,” Falcon complained as Spiderman hitched a ride again.</p><p>“Great, then I don’t have to tip you,” Spidey replied before releasing again.  He headed in the direction of the showdown between Lang and Black Dwarf.  The fight had not gone in Antman’s favor.  He was bigger and stronger, but Dwarf was almost indestructible.  He needed help.</p><p>“Hey,” Spidey called as he sailed between them “remember that thing I did at the airport?”</p><p>“How could I forget,” Antman replied sarcastically.</p><p>Peter immediately webbed a strand at Dwarf’s face and yanked, adjusting his trajectory towards his target.  Dwarf reached up and ripped the web off.  Spidey webbed him again, swinging under his arms.  He started webbing Dwarf’s feet.</p><p>He didn’t get far.  After one pass Dwarf snatched him out of the air and hurled him into the ground.  Dwarf turned his attention to his primary nemesis, connecting with a right hook.  Spiderman bounced to a stop just as Lang’s head crashed to the ground next to him.  No doubt Dwarf had been aiming to squash Spiderman with Antman.</p><p>They stared at one another for a moment.  “I guess he’s seen that one,” Lang said before rolling onto his back to meet Dwarf’s follow up charge.  He raised both feet, kicking the smaller monster up and past him.  Antman followed that movement around, landing on his feet.  He turned around to see Dwarf picking himself back up</p><p>“Ah, it’s like punching a pufferfish,” Lang commented as they sized each other up.</p><p>Peter looked over Lang’s form, noting the myriad cuts in his outfit.  His gloves seemed to have gotten the worst of it.  “Sounds like you need a weapon,” Spiderman commented, trying to figure out how to help.  Perhaps he could web the ground and trip Dwarf the next time he charged?</p><p>“Sounds great,” Antman replied seriously.  He grabbed the left field foul pole and ripped it out of the ground.  A mass of concrete came with the base.  He immediately applied it to Dwarf’s face.  The concrete anchor exploded in a cloud of shards.  Dwarf gave all the appearance of not having noticed.  Lang blocked Dwarf’s next swing with the pole; it bent.  “You know,” he said “that flail worked pretty well.   I don’t suppose you could make another?”</p><p>“Yeah, maybe I’ll just go and find you a super-sized Excalibur while I’m at it,” Peter replied, glancing around anyways.  In reality, he had the perfect stuff for the rope of the flail, but he needed a weight. </p><p>“Great,” Lang shot back as he caught Dwarf’s fist in the bend of the pipe and kicked him.  “I hear that’s the giant McDonald’s happy meal toy this month.”</p><p>Peter’s response died in his throat as his eyes landed on the variety of spiked implements wielded by Thanos’s children.  “I’ll be right back,” he was all he said before webbing himself to the nearest group.  “Excuse me . . . I need this . . . mind if I borrow that?” he asked as he worked his way through the crowd, webbing them all into one giant mass.  Anyone trying to break free got an extra helping of web.</p><p>Once his ball of four or five minions was assembled, he webbed himself into the air, via Ironman this time.  He twisted around and fired both web shooters back at his handiwork, and kicked off of Ironman.  He went into a spin around the axis created by his web shooters, aimed at Lang, who was currently brandishing the remains of the foul pole like a baton.</p><p>The two strands of web wrapped around each other, creating a makeshift rope.  Spidey landed on the foul pole and quickly attached the rope, winding it around the remaining length of foot and a half thick steel.</p><p>“I have no idea how long this will last,” Peter said, noting that Dwarf had begun another charge.  “They should call this guy the rhino,” he added as jumped off.</p><p>“Thanks little guy,” Lang said, pulling the makeshift flail into a downward smash that slammed Dwarf into the ground at his feet.  He couldn’t help enjoying being on the other end of that particular adjective.  Usually, he was on its receiving end.  Dwarf roared in anger as Lang stepped back, swinging the flail up to speed.</p><p> </p><p>Frank Castle took a moment to survey the utter chaos taking place below him.  His eyes halted their scan on mid right field.  Just past the baseline was an empty space containing three individuals: Nebula, Gamora, and Corvus Glaive.  The two sisters were fighting frantically against Glaive’s frenzied strikes.</p><p>Watching him Castle quickly realized that, maddened as he was, he was the type whose anger burned cold.  It did not consume him; it gave him strength.  He was currently using that strength against Nebula.</p><p>The ferocity of his attacks had the Luphoid backpedaling hard, blocking with the staff she’d appropriated from said attacker’s wife.  Gamora was doing what she could, but she’d lost her neutronium sword in the fight and was making do with one of Nebula’s discarded tonfas.</p><p>As Castle watched through the scope, Nebula finally managed to rock her attacker back on his heels.  She made to block yet another of his savage swipes but, at the last moment, she ducked under it.  The spear slashed out at Glaive’s feet before he could regain control of his weapon.  He gamely hopped over it.</p><p>Nebula then rose from her crouch into a sidekick that sent the widower flying a few feet backwards to land on the ground.  Gamora sidestepped his altered trajectory, slamming the tonfa against the back of his head.</p><p>A lesser creature would have died instantly from either of those blows.  But you don’t reach the exalted status of general in Thanos’s twisted parody of a family by being a lesser creature.  Glaive rolled to the side, out of reach of Nebula’s follow up stab, and stood up.</p><p>For a moment the three of them stood motionless, each side reassessing the relative strengths and weaknesses of the other.  Castle focused on Glaive’s weapon; the data they’d received had included the capabilities and weaknesses of Thanos’s lieutenants.  While the former category significantly dwarfed the latter, he knew Glaive could not be killed without first breaking the weapon that was his namesake.</p><p>Castle noted that Glaive’s weapon had numerous dents and nicks in it, with one that went nearly a third of the way through its diameter.  He dropped his weapon’s clip, ejected the standard .50 BMG round he had chambered, and loaded the one adamantium bullet each shooter in his squad had been given.  But, before he could widen that gap, the three resumed battle.</p><p>“C’mon, C’mon,” he muttered as he tried to follow Glaive’s movements, urging the two sisters to give him another opening.  Before that could occur, he heard the sounds of something large and heavy moving down the corridor.  “It seems we have guests,” he commented, not moving his eye from the scope.</p><p>“I’ll roll out the welcome mat,” his spotter said.  He then set the pair of Steiner 1050 binoculars down and pushed himself to his feet.  A moment later there was the sound of a smoke grenade being activated and thrown, followed by the sound of an FN Minimi chambered in 7.62 NATO firing.  That sound was occasionally dwarfed by the sound of the mined hallway erupting against whatever was in it.  But, the steady sound of the squad automatic weapon firing reported that the targets of those explosions were still coming.  “Thirty Seconds!” his spotter shouted as he ducked into the room to reload.  Five seconds later the sound of automatic fire resumed.</p><p>And still there was no opening for him to fire.  In one respect it was an impressive display of stamina.  Most fights last for a few moments.  Few reach half a minute of full action before the participants are exhausted.  That said, he had cyborg aliens from hell crawling up his backside; he really didn’t have the time to enjoy a martial arts exhibition.</p><p>His spotter stepped back into the room, pulling the pin on the grenade in his hand.  He opened his hand enough for the lever to launch itself in a random direction.  “Time to go!” he announced before backhand tossing it out of the room to ricochet down the hallway.  A second and a half later it detonated.  A high keening wail flowed back down the hallway.</p><p>“Go,” Castle replied, never having taken his eyes from his scope.</p><p>“Lieutenant?” the kid asked.</p><p>Castle looked up from his rifle and fixed him with a ‘are you still here’ stare.  “I said ‘GO’!” he replied, before turning back to the scope.  The kid hesitated for half a second longer, then grabbed the rope they’d affixed to the floor and taking a running jump out of the box.  He rappelled downward at a speed that would have had any instructor breathing fire, but he made it down.</p><p>As he cleared Castle’s line of sight he saw that the three had stopped fighting again.  Gamora was saying something, he knew not what.  If alien body language was anything like a human’s he could tell Glaive wasn’t very receptive to it, whatever it was. </p><p>He honed quickly in on the haft of the glaive, but he couldn’t find the cut he’d seen earlier; it must have been on the side turned away from him.  But he knew he wasn’t going to get another shot; he could practically feel his attackers at the doorway.  He quickly guesstimated the weakened spot’s location and fired.</p><p>If the glaive had been in the hands of a normal being it wouldn’t have worked; the shot would have simply knocked the glaive out of his hand.  But this was not a normal being.  This was a being possessing incredible strength.  So, instead of being flung off into the distance by Frank’s one adamantium fifty caliber round, the haft of his weapon was severed into two parts almost exactly half way between the hands holding it.</p><p>Frank rolled over, just in time to see the first of those cybernetic monsters charge through the doorway.  He came up from his roll with a P90 spraying.  The small caliber bullets did little damage, but the aggregate mass slowed it down.  Castle rolled out the open window as its brethren charged into the room behind it.</p><p>Castle flailed for a second before managing to catch his escape rope with one hand and between his boots.  His fall became a controlled slide down the rope.  He was half way to the bottom when he pulled the detonator from one of his pockets and flipped the appropriate switches.</p><p>A gout of fire erupted sideways out of the room he’d just vacated, followed quickly by one of his assailants.  A moment later the roof above the ill-fated VIP box came crashing down.</p><p>He never did find out what actually cut his line.  It could have been cut by the C4 he’d left as a welcome present when it detonated.  It could be that one of his attackers had managed to cut it.  Or it could be explosion sharpened pieces of ceiling slamming down on it.  At the moment he did not care.  All he knew was that he was suddenly in free fall with only twenty feet between him and a very hard landing.</p><p>Frank had never been much into parkour.  But that other rope was just swinging there.  His right foot snapped out, stomping the wall to his right.  He felt his right leg twist as it made contact with it.  Then he was sailing at an angle away from the wall with just a little bit of spin, to spice things up.</p><p>He tried to snag the other rope, but didn’t account for his rotation correctly; it slapped against the back of his right arm.  He turned his head in time to see the rope dance around from the impact.  Without thinking, he twisted in the air and stretched what seemed to be his entire left side towards his one last chance at salvation. </p><p>His fingers grasped the rope and clamped down like a train knuckle closing.  He felt himself jerked back towards the wall.  His elbow slammed against it, loosening his grip on the rope.  Fortunately, his tug had brought the rope closer, allowing him to reacquire it with his right hand.  The entire episode may have taken two seconds, but he still barely had time to slow his decent before hitting bottom.  Fortunately, he was able to miss the soldiers waiting there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Portals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yankee Stadium</p><p> </p><p>Steve glanced up as the huge tongue of flame from Castle's escape spurted from the box.  His current opponent did not.  It was a hulking brute that appeared to have had a third arm grafted to the back of its right shoulder blade, or whatever its race used in its stead.  The effect was to look like a twisted cross between a scorpion's stinger and a gorilla's arm.  Not a pleasing sight, whether it was being leveled in your direction or not.</p><p>Had it not been for a flash of movement in Steve's peripheral vision, that momentary distraction would have proven fatal.  As it was, he was barely able to get his shield up to block the incoming strike, and there wasn't enough time to brace against the hit.  The impact sent him staggering a couple of steps, giving his opponent an advantage.  Well, another advantage.  One it didn't even have to think about taking.</p><p>It followed up on its first attack with a sideways swipe that tore the shield from his glove.  Steve dove away from its next attack.  He rolled to the side and tried to recall his shield, but nothing happened.  A quick glance at his forearm showed that the sending unit had been damaged.</p><p>He rolled away from another strike, more on instinct than anything else, glancing around for any inspiration that might adjust his current circumstances.  The field had thinned somewhat of Thanos's children; their broken bodies dotted the field, spilling every color of blood (and several inorganic fluids) onto the battlefield.  Not that he and his allies weren't still outnumbered by an incredible amount, but the odds were improving.</p><p>He couldn't be sure, but he thought all of his people were still alive.  Sadly, none were close enough to help him.  The aerial unit was doing what it could, but it was spread pretty thin.  That their opponents had shown a distinct tendency to hurl whatever they could find (including parts of their comrades, fallen or not) at their airborne harassers wasn't making that job any easier.</p><p>Despite his pessimism regarding the lack of available help, as that lumbering brute advanced on him yet again, Quill flew down and peppered it in the back with his improved blasters.</p><p>It turned to face its new enemy.  As it did so it scooped up the pitcher's plate and hurled it at Quill like a discus thrower.  Quill switched his pistols to the shiny new force setting and shot the plate, reversing its direction.  But the creature continued the return motion of its throw and batted the plate back.</p><p>Sadly, that was as far as their game of hand-plate went; by that point the improvised projectile was moving too fast for Quill to have time to acquire the target and fire.  Without his armor jacket, the flying piece of rubber that could at one time have been called a base plate would have sliced right through his torso.  As it was, it merely sent him into a tumbling flight with a trajectory that quite literally took him out of the ballpark.</p><p>Steve used the diversion to readjust his position slightly around the behemoth creature.  A glimmer of a plan had begun to form in his brain.  He wasn't sure how effective it would turn out to be; it's biggest selling point was that it was his only plan.</p><p>As the brute turned its sinister glare back on him, he took a step back and to the right.  He dodged right of its next attack.  It growled in frustration and launched a flurry of swipes in his direction. Cap continued dodging.  It was almost like a strange form of dance.  Back, back and to the right, left, back, but always moving him closer to the edge of the open space they were fighting in.  Always making it appear that he was going for his shield.</p><p>He figured there had to be a reason why this lumbering monstrosity was being given so much room by its allies.  His entire plan hinged on the idea that it had a history of causing collateral damage.  Considering its size, it would not be a history of minor collateral damage.  If he could just get it to hit one of its allies it might buy him enough time to retrieve his shield.</p><p>The downside of this plan was that he was deliberately flanking himself with enemies.  If they should show a greater understanding of teamwork than they had so far let on, he would only be making his situation worse.  But, when there is no choice only a fool refuses chance.</p><p>That didn't mean he couldn't improve his odds though.  So, as he made that final dive to the edge of their little ring he straightened up and looked the brobdingnagian nightmare in the eye. Then he held his right arm out straight, palm up.  His fingers bent to the vertical, returned flat, and bent again.  He doubted his opponent had ever heard of Bruce Lee, but it clearly got the gist of that particular gesture.</p><p>It blinked, as if it couldn't believe he'd had the temerity to egg it on.  Then it bellowed.  Then it charged.  Steve sized up the oncoming multilimbed freight train bearing down on him, looking for the best way to not be just another flattened penny.  But it seemed to have anticipated that strategy. Its arms were both set away from its body like scoops, ready to catch him if he attempted to dive to either side.  Its upper arm was clearly in a position to pound him flat.</p><p>Steve took three steps back and one to the right.  The thing adjusted its charge.  He took another step back, placing himself well within the threatened area of another of Thanos's goons.  He itched to look back and check on it, but refrained from doing so. He couldn't afford to risk letting the juggernaut bearing down on him in on his plan.  He just had to hope that it was still dealing with something on its opposite side, and trust in his other senses to warn him if that changed.</p><p>Time seemed to slow.  Half of Cap's mind was focused behind him.  The other half was gauging the speed of the oncoming freight train, the rhythm of its steps, the sway of its arms, the hungry glint of its face.</p><p>It had crossed half the distance between them when Cap felt the creature behind him begin to turn, no doubt sensing the same danger he was focusing on.  By then it was too late.  Cap took one more step back.  It adjusted again and he sprung forward, sliding between its churning legs.  Its upper arm came down, just barely missing his body.</p><p>The impact of that massive arm hitting the ground lifted it up, making it impossible for it to adjust its vector before slamming through its nominal ally.  Cap bolted across the field to where his shield had fallen.  Behind him he could hear the sounds of the two tangled minions fighting.</p><p>He almost made it before a sudden feeling made him duck.  Half a heartbeat later, the smaller of the two minions came sailing over his head.  It missed him by inches.  But what it did not miss was Cap's goal.  In fact, it impacted the ground directly in front of the shield, sending it flying into the general melee.</p><p>Cap stood slowly, eyes locked on the last place he'd seen his shield. He knew he had to move.  He could sense Freight Train moving in behind him.  Live Ammo was getting up in front of him.  No doubt they would sandwich him first, then work out their own grievance.</p><p>He turned ninety degrees in order to keep the two of them within his peripheral vision and thought hard.  But the best plan he could come up with was very akin to the one that had just failed; keep dodging their blows and hope they hit each other.  The biggest downside to that being he had to actually avoid the attacks of two flanking enemies long enough for them to do significant damage to themselves.  It was not a good plan.  It was simply the best plan he had available.</p><p>They'd gotten to within a couple of meters of him when a voice shouted his name from somewhere behind him.  Cap turned just enough to see an object flying through the air and grinned.</p><p>It was only after he caught said object that he realized that it had not been his shield flying at him; it had been Thor's hammer.  He spared one precious moment in realization that he was actually holding it, then turned and backhand swung it into the face of Live Ammo.  The minion flew backwards as he turned to Freight Train.  He threw the returning hammer at its face, half expecting it to ignore his recall command.  But it came back to his hand immediately.  He was beginning to see what Thor loved about it.</p><p>Only momentarily stunned, Freight Train punched at him with its upper arm.  Steve sidestepped and swung the hammer into that massive arm, crushing its last joint.  Then he threw the hammer at its face again, catching its return.</p><p>The thing swiped at him with one of those massive arms. He tossed the hammer up before ducking under the blow.  Thor flew through the air, caught the hammer and swung it against Freight Train's jaw.  It staggered backwards as Thor landed besides Cap.</p><p>Live Ammo picked itself up and joined Freight Train.  The two sides stared at each other for a moment.  Then they charged.  Thor and Cap danced between the larger creature's blows, passing the hammer back and forth as needed.  Thor let his mortal friend use the mythical hammer most of the fight, relying on his own strength and durability.  After a few blows another voice popped out of the crowd.</p><p>"Hey, did anyone lose a medieval blocky thingy?"  Spiderman asked just before launching himself over the two.  He hurled the shield to bounce off of both minion's faces before heading towards Cap.</p><p>"Thanks," Cap said before tossing the hammer back to Thor.  The two minions exchanged a worried glance, which was all the invitation the two Avengers needed to continue the attack.  The fight did not last much longer.</p><p>Thor and Cap exchanged a glance as the last one fell. "Shall we finish it then?"  Thor asked.</p><p>"Let's," Cap replied.</p><p>They charged straight for Thanos's position, mowing through the enemies in their way.  They swapped places as smoothly as if they were two parts of a single machine.  They exchanged gear as needed.  One moment they would carry their own equipment.  Then they'd switch. Sometimes, one would have both.</p><p>Thanos watched the approaching duo with mild amusement spread across his face.  It was almost like the look a parent might make as they watch their child try to fit a triangle into a square slot.</p><p>He let them get to within three meters, then rose out of his hovering throne.  He reached behind himself and grabbed it with one arm, swinging the advanced chair in a high arc that ended with Thor's position.  Or, his position at the beginning of the maneuver; not one for being crushed by a madman's chair, Thor dodged to the side.</p><p>Thanos expected the maneuver.  In fact, he'd have had a better chance at hitting Thor if he'd aimed the chair's center at him.  But instead he'd aimed it to the right, ensuring that Thor and Cap would dodge away from each other.  He capitulated quickly, taking one giant step forward and snatching Thor out of his roll and flinging him off into the distance.  His trajectory landed him in one of the buildings surrounding the ball park.</p><p>Thanos paid no attention to Thor's flight, instead turning to focus on Cap.  He stopped the super soldier's wild swing of Mjolnir with what appeared to be pathetic ease.  His right hand shot out, wrapping itself around Cap's torso and lifting him off of the ground.  With no leverage, Cap couldn't even struggle. He tried another swing, easily blocked.  Then the hammer flew off into the distance.  Thanos brought him up to eye level, as if examining an interesting specimen.</p><p>"So much wasted effort," he observed calmly, almost pityingly.  "You strive to earn the respect of these people, without ever grasping their fleeting, simple nature.  You refuse to see that they will always fear you.  You fight for them, attempting an acceptance that will never come, for you have not the will to control them.  And so, you fight alone."</p><p>Steve opened his mouth to respond, but a gunshot interrupted his retort.  Not that that sound was in any way unusual in the current environment, but this one was clearly from a .50 pistol.  What's more, it pierced Thanos's right wrist, forcing him to drop his suspended opponent.</p><p>Both turned to the source of that gunshot just as the stadium lights activated, revealing that source to be one Nicholas Joseph Fury, standing in the aisle.  His voice rang out over the thunking sounds of further light activations, and for a moment, it was as if the entire battle stopped.</p><p>"Now, mother fucker," he said "who said they were alone?" And as he asked that simple, vulgar question, the columns on his sides erupted with the soldiers that had just taken those positions.  As they rose, those at their sides rose, creating what is probably the most awe-inspiring wave in the history of same.  Despite the dire circumstances, Steve found himself following that wave around the stadium.</p><p>It was not an American wave, despite being on American soil.  When those on the first rows rose, they began pushing flags over the sides: the American Flag, the Chinese Flag, the Japanese Flag, Russian, Pakistani, Indian.  On and on it went until the stadium's walls were covered with the flags of nations.  And more, often than not, the flags of nations with shared enmity were placed next to one another.  Over twenty thousand allied soldiers revealed themselves, and every one of them had a weapon pointed at the invaders.</p><p>And, out of the bullpens and doors came the remaining army of Wakanda, forming a defensive perimeter around the field.  Members of the Border Tribe were spread evenly amongst them. T'Challa searched Okoye out of that crowd, eyes watering with pride for his people.  She caught his look, giving only a slight nod; a gesture he quickly returned.</p><p>As the wave continued around the stadium another voice, from the opposite side of Fury spoke up.  "No, it's true," Secretary Ross said in a booming voice as he slowly descended the opposing aisle.  "We often compete against each other.  And . . . sometimes, we might just take it too far," he added, turning an apologetic look on Cap.  "You're all pardoned by the way," he added before looking back at Thanos.  "But it has helped each of us to know our strengths and weaknesses.  It has helped us strive to excel, to become better than we were.  And it has helped us become stronger, both individually and as a whole, so that when some purple gorilla with a skin condition decides to come stomping around, well we know exactly what we're capable of."</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Deadpool and Falcon listened to Ross from where they'd ended up.  "Not a bad speech for a pedantic blow hard," Wade commented.</p><p>"Ah, the General's not that bad," Falcon replied.</p><p>"Actually, I was talking about the writer," Deadpool corrected.</p><p>"Wait, you know the General's speech writer?" Falcon asked.  He never got an answer.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>"So," Fury continued, taking up the conversation "we'll give you this one opportunity to surrender and leave our planet.  Or we'll show you just how deep the anthill you've kicked over truly is. Oh," he added as an afterthought "you can leave the gauntlet."</p><p>Thanos glared back at Fury's hubris.  He started to point out how this minor annoyance of a change made no difference, but was interrupted by a crackle from the gauntlet.  Everyone turned one eye on the metal glove, noting that the five stones embedded within seemed to be glowing brighter than before.  In addition, there seemed to be a lightshow erupting between the stones. Each was sending small flashes, like little sparks, of its color to the others in what appeared to be a random order.</p><p>Thanos looked from the gauntlet back to Fury.  The Rancor that had filled his countenance a moment earlier turned to an evil grin.  "I must respectfully decline your offer," he said, holding his left arm towards Fury, palm up.  A bolt of lightning leapt from it towards the aging spy.  Fury tried to dodge to the side, but the bolt caught him in the leg.  He yelled in pain, falling to the ground, still smoldering.</p><p>Ross spared one concerned look for his friend before giving a single two-word command.  "Open up!" he barked.  The entire stadium opened fire on the field.  It was not one long cacophony of fire, but thousands of single shots and controlled bursts of fire.  These people were some of the best in the world, marksman every one of them.</p><p>Thanos glared into that storm of metal and issued his own two-word command.  "Kill them," he growled. Half of his 'children' broke from their fight to charge the field's walls.  The Border Tribe took one pace away from the Wakandan line, now familiar shield blankets raised.  Its army lowered their spears in anticipation of the coming wave.</p><p>Thor landed next to Cap just as Widow, T'Challa, Bucky, and Jarvis collapsed on his position.  The Asgardian king took one look at the field and said 'This is not good."</p><p>"How do you mean?" T'Challa asked.  "The field has thinned."</p><p>"I see what you mean," Cap replied as the wave met the wall.  It seemed that several of Thanos's children were able to completely ignore the barriers the shield blankets threw up.  Others simply overpowered the bearers, despite the fact that the shields were locked together.</p><p>This was the exception rather than the rule, but it did put enemies in the Wakandan line where they could reap havoc.  That line quickly collapsed around the breaches, attempting to contain them.  The Army stabbed at the breachers, but were caught off guard when their targets continued the assault amid multiple stab wounds.  The soldiers in the bottom rows did what they could, but many of them were pulled from their positions.</p><p>T'Challa watched the carnage for a moment. "Okoye?" he asked worriedly holding his beaded wrist up to his mouth.</p><p>Okoye's strained voice came through one of the beads. "We are holding them," she grunted.</p><p>"They're not going to hold," Widow said quietly.</p><p>"Okoye will hold," T'Challa replied firmly.</p><p>"No, she's right," Jarvis replied. "Their tactics indicate a familiarity with having the force advantage on their side."</p><p>"They need someone who's used to fighting outside her weight class," Steve replied as he and Thor turned to Widow.</p><p>"Wait, me?" she asked in surprise. Neither of them said anything.  After a moment, T'Challa detached one of the beads on his wrist and handed it to her. "You will need this," he said.</p><p>The device spoke as it changed hands.  "We don't need her," Okoye's voice stated in grunted tones.</p><p>"Okoye, you will follow her commands as if they were my own," T'Challa replied firmly.  There was a slight pause before the Wakandan general acceded.</p><p>"Great, but I still need to get there," Widow replied, eyeing the wall of enemies between her and her allies.  No one said anything.  Then Thor held his hammer out.</p><p>Widow glanced at it and started to shake her head, but something in Thor's eyes halted the motion.  They locked eyes for a moment; it was as if he was somehow lending his faith in her <em>to</em> her. Then, without taking her eyes off of him, she reached out and grabbed the hammer's handle.  Thor released it.  It remained.</p><p>"So how do I-uhn," Widow started before the hammer drug her across the field.</p><p>"She did say she already knew if she was worthy," Steve quipped.</p><p>Widow managed to hold onto the handle as she smashed through the inner circle, landing directly in front of Okoye. She reflexively hammered one of the minions raking at the general before turning around and snapping orders.</p><p>"Do not try to match forces," she bellowed as she sidestepped an attack. "Dodge, deflect, use your enemy's momentum against them," she said.  Those orders were the first lessons when learning to fight, but overconfidence often blocks those early lessons.  And the Wakandans had had good reason to be overconfident for centuries.  She continued snapping orders and suggestions while fighting.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Thanos had been dealing with a different type of obstacle, in the form of one red suited psychotically eclectic Wade Wilson.</p><p>"I've seen better sparks when my dick touches the bedrail," Deadpool commented.</p><p>"Oh really?" Thanos asked before sending another lightning bolt his way.  The bolt launched Deadpool backwards to tumble on the ground behind him.  He was still smoldering as he stood back up.</p><p>"Okay, that one felt more like a taser," he commented as he brushed at the burn marks in his suit.  "But not a good one, kind of bug zapper like," he added.</p><p>Thanos frowned before remembering exactly what he was dealing with. He stomped menacingly over to the jester and sent a fist slamming down to crush him. Deadpool dodged to the side, his neutronium katanas' impossibly sharp edges lashing out at that arm.  The blades bit into his armor, but did not completely penetrate it.  Thanos glanced at the marks made and launched an all-out offensive.</p><p>Deadpool dodged and slashed, a small part of him enjoying how prolonging the battle irked his opponent all the more.  Most of the time his blades did no real damage, but occasionally he found a chink in Thanos's armor.</p><p>After one of these particularly lucky strikes Thanos stopped to glare at the smaller man. Deadpool stared back, appearing completely unfazed. Then he spoke.</p><p>"Does your entire race look like that or did you make a conscious choice to have your scrotum stapled to your chin?" he asked.</p><p>Thanos sneered in response.  Suddenly Deadpool found he couldn't move.  It was as if he were locked in an invisible coffin.  He looked up to see Banner falling out of the sky and grinned just before Thanos's massive fist crushed him flat.</p><p>Thanos turned back around and caught Banner, raising him back to his former height.  Then he held the gauntlet out.  A two-dimensional doorway opened up even as Widow was hurtling towards the wall. More of Thanos's minions came pouring out.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>"So much for that thinning field," Thor said, stomping over to the new doorway.  He summoned up a massive lightning bolt that fried the line of troops, leading back through the doorway itself.  He had hoped it would collapse the passage entirely, but it remained unaffected.</p><p>Thor gasped as a wave of exhaustion hit him.  He stumbled momentarily as if he'd used his own life force to power that lightning bolt.</p><p>"Hello brother," Loki said from his side.  Thor whipped around to see Loki standing calmly at his side.  There was barely time for Thor's delight at seeing his brother to cross his face before Loki stabbed him in the gut.</p><p>Thor backhanded his brother, sending him sprawling to the ground.  He stomped after him saying "Do we really have to do this again brother?"</p><p>"Of course we do," Loki replied, picking himself up from the ground to face his brother.</p><p>Thor stopped just out of arms reach.  "We should be working together against Thanos. Brother, please," Thor implored.</p><p>"What; like last time?" Loki replied venomously.  "When I got captured?"</p><p>"Brother-" Thor started, but Loki wasn't done.</p><p>"That's how it always goes," Loki growled.  "You get the easy path.  I get the hard one."</p><p>"Loki," Thor said "if I could have taken your place, I would have.  Believe that."</p><p>Loki straightened up at that.  The rancor seemed to leave his face as he considered that.  "You know, I believe you would have," he said.  Then he threw a trio of daggers at Thor.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>As that sibling rivalry took place, Cap, Jarvis, Bucky, T'Challa, and Drax took places in a semi-circle about Thanos's portal, preparing for the second wave.  They managed to do surprisingly well for a short time.  Thanos's minions were forced to come through the gate single file, allowing them to team up to kill them before the next could emerge.  They were helped by the aerial unit when possible, but the flyers were forced to expend more and more time defending them from the enemies already present.</p><p>Tony landed behind Cap to intercept one such enemy.  He caught a swinging appendage, breaking it at the joint.  Then his shoulder rockets fired into its body.  He used his center chest arc to fling it away, right into one of its compatriots.  Then the rockets exploded, killing it and stunning its landing pad. Tony blasted off again.</p><p>Thanos watched the maneuver with growing irritation.  As Tony took to the air, he held the gauntlet out again, this time manifesting a wormhole emitting a massive gravitational pull directly in the tinker's path.  Tony was almost sucked in before he could reorient to blast against its pull. But even then, he found himself slowly backing into the orifice.</p><p>"Metal man," Thanos said.  "You depend on your technology too much.  Let's see how well you do on a world without any."</p><p>For once, Tony passed on the snappy comeback.  He tried angling his vector to escape its diameter, but found that he lost too much ground.  If he had to guess, he'd have said Thanos had made the field around the wormhole's perimeter stronger; it was the kind of thing the sadistic monster would do.</p><p>"Friday, increase thruster output to one hundred fifteen percent," he said as he searched frantically for a way out of his current fix.  The increased power had halted his backwards progress, but it did not solve his predicament.  He could increase his power output further, but he risked burning out emitters.  Even at this setting he didn't have long before he'd start damaging them.  These settings were for short bursts of power, not sustained output.</p><p>He wasn’t the only person trying to free himself either; Wanda tried to pull him out, but she couldn't seem to get a grip on his suit.  She tried collapsing the wormhole, but it was simply too powerful.  And the little bit she was able to do seemed to intensify the hole's pull.</p><p>Lang tried to reach him, but Black Dwarf grabbed him and hurled him against the infield wall.</p><p>"Next suit gets grappling hooks," Tony muttered.</p><p>"There is no guarantee that grappling hooks would hold in this soil," Friday replied.</p><p>"Tunneling grappling hooks then," Tony amended.</p><p>"Captain," T'Challa said indicating Tony's current situation.  Cap turned from the door to see his friend thrusting from the portal for all he was worth.  He could see sparks starting to erupt from the suit's overworked repulsors.</p><p>"Tony!" he yelled, tearing off after his friend.  He dodged one minion, used another as a ramp and jumped towards his friend.  He twisted in the air, turning his shield back the way he'd come.  He released the energy it had absorbed from all the impacts of the fight.</p><p>A light purple beam shot out of the shield, hitting Thanos dead in the face.  It propelled Cap into Tony with such force that the tinker was knocked clear of the wormhole.  Tony tried to grab for Steve, in hopes of dragging him along, but he missed. Newton's 3rd law took effect, halting the soldier's movement.  He fell into the hole meant for Tony.</p><p>Tony crashed to the ground and twisted to look at the last place he'd seen his friend.  The turn was just in time to see Cap's shield fly back out of the hole, hit the still dazed Thanos in the face, and ricochet into Bucky's hands. The two friends of a friend looked at each other, then charged Thanos.</p><p>Tony was half way there when a familiar portal opened up, emitting one Doctor Steven Strange.</p><p>"He has the Mind Stone," Friday whispered.  Tony did a double take.  Strange was delivering the last infinity stone.  It seemed unthinkable, but there was no other explanation for his appearance.</p><p>There was a moment's battle within him, his need for vengeance fighting his need to do the job. In the end that battle was irrelevant; he knew what Steve would tell him to do if he could.  He altered his thrust to try and stop Strange.</p><p>Bucky's attempt at vengeance went little better.  The loss of some of their air support, and then Cap, had been enough to allow the minions coming through the portal to start stacking up.  The blocking team was forced to retreat, moving steadily away from Bucky's goal.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Nor were those two the only ones on the field so affected.  Nebula watched Steve disappear down the rabbit hole and something inside of her twisted.  It wasn't that she loved Steve Rogers.  She didn’t.  But he was the only person who'd ever truly seen her. And he'd accepted her.  He’d seemed to admire what he saw.</p><p>Now he was gone.  And she found that, for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was filled with rage.  Her survival, even Gamora's survival were suddenly meaningless.</p><p>She attacked Corvus Glaive with a blistering assault of strikes not even he could completely defend against.  He was able to pick and choose, blocking all of the dangerous attacks and taking the minor ones in stride.  But Nebula kept him so busy on the defense that Gamora was able to get a massive blow in against the back of his head with her tonfa.</p><p>As he reeled from that blow Nebula stabbed the spear formerly owned by Glaive's wife directly into his chest.  She stabbed him three more times in quick succession before charging away from him towards Thanos.  Glaive looked down, stunned, at the four enlarging holes in his chest before they ate his torso completely away.</p><p>"Nebula!" Gamora yelled after her sister, but the Luphoid continued her mad charge.  Gamora made to follow her but stopped and turned to what was left of Glaive.  She turned to snatch up the meter and a half long upper section of Glaive's glaive and made a quick survey of the battlefield.  There was no point in her keeping it; Thanos never provided his 'family' with something that could harm him, and there was no doubt in her mind as to where Nebula was headed.  But that didn't mean one of her friends couldn't use it.</p><p>Of all her allies, it was quickly apparent that the one in most dire need of something that could pierce almost anything was Antman.  It would be little more than a knife in his oversized hand, but it would still help.  She considered hurling the broken weapon at him, but she wasn't entire sure he could catch it by the haft.</p><p>"Peter!" she yelled unnecessarily loudly, considering they were all on comms.</p><p>"What?" Quill asked, heading her direction.</p><p>"Get this to Scott!" she called out in a more normal tone, tossing the half glaive into the air.</p><p>Peter took one look to where Lang was fighting Dwarf.  It was clear that the engineer was starting to run on fumes.  Dwarf seemed perfectly ready for round five.  "Right," he said, catching the spear and making off in that direction.  Gamora raced after her sister.</p><p>Quill glanced backwards just in time to see Gamora crash into the barrier of minions between the two sisters and Thanos.  He had to admit, they worked well together; he estimated it would only take them a minute or more to make contact.</p><p>He revised that estimate when he saw Thanos heading towards them.  Part of him wanted to help, but even his upgraded blasters had shown little in the way of effectiveness against The Mad Titan.  Knowing that did nothing to quell that part of him that wanted to double back though.</p><p>He turned forward to where Lang was fighting.  The electrical engineer had little time left; he'd be dead already if Tony and Rocket hadn't upgraded his suit's primitive leather armor with the impact absorbing weave his own clothes were made of.  But that weave had had some hard miles put on it in a very short time.  It was scratched and ripped in numerous places.</p><p>Quill looked back at Gamora again.  The urge to turn back swelled again as he saw Thanos reach their line. He fought it down.  The weapon he was delivering would help Antman far more than he could help them.  Beyond that, the sisters probably had a better chance of holding out longer than Lang did; they at least knew their opponent intimately.  He had to trust that they knew what they were doing.  Quill sighed, turning back towards his goal once again, and increased speed.</p><p>He turned just in time to see a portal of golden fire open up in front of him.  He tried to veer off, but it was impossible to counter the momentum he'd already gained in that fraction of a second.  He braced himself as he passed through, expecting to end up in a volcano, or perhaps splatting against a cliff.  His suit could protect him from the former, unless he was actually submerged.  Whether it could do so against the latter was in question, considering current velocity.</p><p>Instead, he found himself on the opposite side of the stadium from his goal.  He started off again, ignoring the itch to go faster.  He wasn't sure what had caused the portal.  By the color, it wasn't an effect of the space stone.  It wasn't in any dossier on Thanos he'd ever seen, under the heading 'super-annoying abilities'.  Besides, Thanos was still enjoying the sister on sister action.</p><p>Nor could Quill imagine Thanos ever giving one of his subordinates such a powerful ability.  He took off again, hoping that whoever had created the portal would be unable to do it again, either due to slow recharge or the chaotic nature of combat.  Still, he fought the itch to go to max power on his boot jets.  He made it half way to Lang before being portaled again.  This time it had formed so close to him that he'd only caught a piece of the ring of fire in his peripheral vision.  There was no way he could have dodged it.</p><p>He hovered back at his starting point considering his options.  He could see what was about to happen: he would traverse that same distance an infinite number of times.  Going slower had actually helped whomever was creating them.  His eyes roamed to Antman and Black Dwarf. Lang was not doing well.  He needed the glaive head in Peter's hands, and soon.</p><p>He considered throwing the glaive but there were so many things wrong with that plan: One: he probably couldn't throw it that distance, even considering his height over the target.  Two: what if Dwarf managed to retrieve it first?  Three: what if he hit Antman?  He could shoot it with a repulsor blast, but that would create an uncontrolled, and highly dangerous, projectile.</p><p>He thought about handing it off to someone else, but no one was more maneuverable in the air than he was.  A shell game would take too long to set up.</p><p>No, he had to be the delivery boy.  With a shrug he blasted off again, this time running his jets even further passed their red line than initially.  He juked about in as random an evasive path as he could manage.</p><p>He'd made it half the distance to his goal, evading several portals, when he spotted their probable cause; the late arriving wizard floating over the battlefield.  Every time he held his hands and arms in a certain position a new portal would appear.  He considered shooting him.  Even if he conjured more portals to divert the bolts, it would still keep him occupied.  The problem with that plan was that Ironman had just flown in the way.  Why he wasn't attacking the mystic was beyond Quill, but he'd settle for the distraction.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, T'Challa, Jarvis, and Bucky found themselves being pushed further and further from the blue portal Thanos had summoned. Even after Brunnhilde had joined them they simply didn't have the damage dealing capability to kill Thanos's reinforcements as fast as they could come through.</p><p>Ross saw it too, while sprinting around the back of the lower deck, trying to reach Fury.  He pulled a radio from his pocket without slowing.  "Blocks twenty-seven, through thirty-six," he gasped as loudly as he could "redirect fire, to the portal."  He repeated the order twice more, until he saw it taking effect.</p><p>The redirected fire helped. For a short time, it appeared it would make the difference.  Then a massive monster that didn't even look as though it should be able to fit within the portal's dimensions shouldered through.  It soaked up an immense amount of fire as more minions began spilling out behind it.  The quartet of fighters found themselves being pushed backwards again.</p><p>Spiderman appeared, webbing the creature down as fast as he could.  At first, he tried webbing them to the ground, but that just ended with the creature trailed by web streamers.  Next, he tried webbing it to its allies.  Said allies found themselves going on a ride.</p><p>The Scarlet Witch joined that fight as well.  She couldn't actually stop the creature, such was its power, but she was able to slow its movements.  That allowed Peter to begin tying it up with his webs.  Brunnhilde stepped in, delivering several precise stabs with her neutronium Long Cinquedea, killing it.  But, by that point, the damage had been done. There were too many minions spread out.  They could no longer concentrate their efforts on a handful as they came through.  The enemy beachhead continued extending itself, pushing them back.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Tony saw what was happening in his rear view and pushed the urge to reverse course down.  As much as he knew they needed him, this was their goal.  They were all expendable. All that mattered was getting The Mind Stone off planet.  He continued on, mentally blocking out a portion of his calendar for the guilt he knew that decision would create.  He put it right next to letting Steve fall into that portal.</p><p>Unlike the rest of their allies, he'd known immediately where those portals were originating; he'd seen them before.  It had confirmed his worst fear: Strange was working with Thanos.  It seemed unthinkable.  Tony had never considered himself one who understood people in general, but he thought he understood Strange well enough to know he wouldn't help kill half of the universe.</p><p>After the first portal he'd increased speed, trying to get to the sorcerer, to stop him if he must. Although their previous encounter did not exactly fill him with confidence on that score.  That confrontation was put on hold as Tony discovered that Strange wasn't using his portals solely to stop the delivery boy.</p><p>One opened directly in front of him, sending him above his starting point.  Tony tried again without hesitation.  But this time he used a combination of anticipatory evasive maneuvers and dumb missiles.  Between his evasive maneuvers, the distractions he kept lobbing at his tormentor, and Quill he was able to make it to the wizard.</p><p>Tony braked as he neared his target.  Strange switched from teleportation circles to conjured arcane shields attached to the front of his fists.</p><p>"Strange, what the hell are you doing?" Tony demanded.</p><p>"What has to be done," the sorcerer said, mingling determination and regret in his voice.  There was also something about his eyes that wasn't quite right.  Tony couldn't put his finger on it, but something about his gaze was . . . off.</p><p>"Done for who?" Tony asked, dodging a projectile lobbed from below.</p><p>"Perhaps you've heard of this thing called the multiverse," Strange replied.</p><p>"I can show you the math," Tony replied quizzically.</p><p>"Oh, then you know all about Dormammu, The Eater of Worlds," Strange replied sarcastically, continuing to cast spells.  Tony chose to ignore it.  Not one spell had actually hurt any of his allies, just inhibited their attacks.  He could tell that Strange was on some sort of fence.  He just didn't know which.</p><p>"I must have missed that equation," Tony replied.</p><p>"It's a being," Strange explained with just a touch of condescension in his voice "who seeks dominion over all universes.  It's made many plays for Earth over the years, and as soon as it unravels the mystery of time it will do so again.  Unless someone with enough power stops him."</p><p>"Ah, so sacrifice half a universe to save the Earth, is that it?" Tony asked.  Strange nodded.  "You know, I never pictured you traveling the Mengele path," Tony observed.</p><p>Strange jerked as if Tony had backhanded him with a gauntlet.  He turned to look directly at Tony.  As his head turned Tony saw a small device sitting in Strange's right ear.  "This is nothing like that," Strange insisted.</p><p>"Really?" Tony said slowly "you both sacrifice people to take the easy route to your goals."  This time Strange looked as if Tony had jabbed him right in the nose.  He opened his mouth to protest, but that protest died, unvoiced.  Strange knew he was right. He knew he was right. But suddenly he wasn't sure why.  And suddenly it seemed hard to think.</p><p>Before he could work through the implications of that there was an explosion of light from below them.  The communicator in Strange's ear came to life.  Friday tapped into it so Tony could hear a voice on the other end say "It is time."  Strange's hesitation seemed to vanish as he cast yet another portal, this one directly in front of him.  The amulet on his chest seemed to unlock itself, and the yellow jewel within launched itself into it.</p><p>Tony looked from the portal to the amulet. His chest arc fired a pulse at Strange.  The wizard was able to take the brunt of it on one of his shields, but the blast still sent him tumbling backwards. Tony then turned to rocket back down to where he knew The Mind Stone had gone.  Unfortunately, another portal opened, sending him back to Strange.</p><p>His face twisted in the exact same frustrated look Quill had presented.  There was no way for him to get to Thanos, not that he knew what he'd do if did, so long as Strange didn't allow it. Instead he turned viciously on the sorcerer.  If he couldn't help with Thanos, he could at least keep Strange focused solely on him.  He just hoped he didn't have to kill him.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>As that battle of wills played out, another was playing out below.  Thanos met Nebula and Gamora, crashing through the wall of his defenders they'd been contending with.  The two sisters flanked him by unspoken consent, forcing him to divide his attention.  They did quite well at first, far better than any other duo had ever fared versus The Mad Titan.</p><p>While unlikely that Proxima Midnight's spear could kill him, it was clear from Thanos's efforts to avoid its business end that it would at least cause him a great deal of pain.  It was strong enough to deflect Thanos's blows, and Nebula also found it useful in dodging his attacks, using it as a lever to move herself out of the path of destruction.  Occasionally the sheer unexpectedness of such a maneuver afforded her the opportunity of a counterattack, but those openings were few and far between.</p><p>Despite Thanos's avoidance of the spear she still found herself being pushed on the defensive more and more.  Had it not been for Gamora, she would most likely have been ground under Thanos's boot after the first few blows.  Yet her sister's blows with the neutronium tonfa rained down on any open location.  They even managed to dent his armor in a few places.</p><p>And every time he turned to deal with that nuisance, Nebula would be there, hitting him in a chink in his armor, or tripping him with the spear, or simply knocking his attack off target.  Often that last would give Gamora a clear shot at him.</p><p>By the third such instance Thanos had seen the pattern; he feinted at Gamora, turning a crushing downward blow on Nebula as she advanced. But he was not the only one thinking in chess terms.  Nebula ground the butt of the spear in the ground and leapt into the air, pivoting on its axis. The maneuver moved her just out of the line of crush.  She spun in the air, lashing out with the spear to catch him a grazing blow in the cheek.  He bellowed in pain, backhanding her out of the air.  Despite the blow, Nebula was able to retain control of the spear.  She flipped through the air and stabbed it into one of Thanos's minions, using their disintegrating body to soften her landing. Gamora backed off as well, hopeful that the spear would work on him.</p><p>At first it looked like it would.  The mere scratch imparted to him seemed to grow, almost encompassing that entire massive cheek.  But then Thanos's face tightened in concentration and the deterioration reversed course, eventually disappearing entirely.  He touched his cheek where the wound had been with the back of one hand.</p><p>"I am disappointed, Nebula," he said as that addressed got back to her feet. "You still play this childish game."  Then he turned to pounce on Gamora, snatching her out of the air.  Nebula howled as she charged him, spear held out in front of her.</p><p>Thanos grinned and spiked Gamora behind him.  She bounced twice before coming to rest.  She struggled to get back to her feet, but found herself to injured to do so.  She needed those few moments for her genetic improvements and nanites to repair the damage.</p><p>As she watched, Thanos snatched Nebula out of her charge with one hand, grabbing that pesky spear with the other.</p><p>Nebula made a futile attempt to regain the spear.  Thanos moved it until she and it were flanking him.  He then brought her up to his face, watching hers in anticipation.  Without looking at the spear, he pressed on the it with nothing more than his thumb.  After a moment the spear snapped, releasing a wave light along with a deafening crack.</p><p>The light blinded anyone looking in that direction that wasn't protected.  Nebula's processors damped it quickly, but she still had the after shadows of that burst playing along her vision.  While she struggled with that Thanos turned to a figure lurking in the background of the fight.  The pale looking creature with white hair and blue eyes nodded before turning his attention to Strange.  He held up a communicator and spoke three simple words into it.</p><p>Nebula's vision cleared to see Thanos's now empty right hand reaching towards a ring of fire.  A moment later a small yellow object zipped through it, landing in his waiting hand.  She barely had time to identify it before it's yellow light flared up. "Nebula," he said, voice dripping with anticipation "kill Gamora."</p><p>Nebula's eyes began to cloud.  But then, they cleared again.  For all its power, the Mind Stone could only affect flesh.  Nebula was but half of that, and Thanos no longer had control over the computerized portions of her mind.</p><p>As her eyes cleared Nebula glared at Thanos, at what he'd just attempted.  For the second time that day her rage burned away even her fear.  A thousand responses crossed her mind, but in the end, she settled on the worst.  She spat directly into Thanos's bulbous eyes.</p><p>Thanos growled in anger, throwing Nebula to the floor.  Then he twisted around, catching Gamora just as she'd started to rise.  "Gamora," he said, in that same tone "kill Nebula."</p><p>Gamora knew what was happening.  She fought against the command.  She fought against the dissolution of her will with everything she had.  But there was no cerebral implant to help her.  She had no rock, no anchor to ground to.</p><p>Thanos held her just long enough be sure his will would be obeyed before setting her down, like a wind-up murder bot pointed at her sister.  Thanos materialized a sword out of the aether and handed it to Gamora.  Gamora took it, before turning a cold gaze on Nebula.  Thanos stepped back expectantly and socketed The Mind Stone.</p><p>"Gamora," Nebula pleaded, heart sinking.  Gamora paid it no heed, advancing on her sister.  Nebula retreated slowly, realizing that she was not prepared for this fight.  She could not fight Gamora, let alone kill her.  She just couldn't.  The fact that Gamora wasn't even home at the moment, that there was something else that just didn't care in her body, was irrelevant.</p><p>Nebula dodged the first thrust, frantically searching for a solution that didn't leave one of them dead. She'd heard that a good hit on the head could clear the stone's control.  She figured that was why Thanos had given Gamora a sword.  Gamora was the best sword fighter in the family; getting close enough to administer a cognitive reboot would be problematic at best.  Nebula's only saving grace was that the sword was made of ordinary material.  Nebula continued backing off, dodging and blocking Gamora's attacks with her left hand, waiting for an opening.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>From where she watched, Mantis had no trouble seeing Stephen Strange appear through a ring of fire, unlike most of her compatriots.  But unlike those few who'd caught his arrival, she was able to see a second ring of fire appear down on ground level, smack dab in the middle of Thanos's forces.  She saw the pale figure with white hair emerge from it and wondered how this obvious alien had allied itself to Strange.</p><p>It wasn't until she saw that figure glance to Strange and issue a command via communicator, all at Thanos's unspoken order, that she realized his significance.  She'd never seen Ebony Maw, but the others had regaled her of his accomplishments in getting them to turn on each other in the caverns below Ahl Agullo.  And his reputation for twisting people's minds was quite well known.</p><p>She considered using her communicator to warn everyone, but what could any of them do?  The only one of them that could possibly have the powerset that could counter Maw's silver tongue was already under his control.  Killing him would not lift his hold on Strange; the most insidious part of how he operated was that he convinced his victims that whatever he suggested was the best course of action for them as well.</p><p>Her heart fell as she realized there was one person who could release Strange from his control. She gazed out at the battlefield fearfully.  She didn't want to go out there.  She wasn't a warrior.  She had no special skillset to help her cut a way to her goal.  She'd gotten surprisingly good at avoiding attacks in the last month.  In fact, she actually had the record for longest battle against most of the team simply because she focused on avoiding being hit.  But that alone wouldn't get her through that gauntlet.</p><p>Yet, she was the only person who could stop this, stop him.  Drax's comments from weeks ago came back to her, reminding her that sometimes it was not about the ends, but the effort.  She pulled the communicator off of her belt and activated it.</p><p>"Drax," she said "I'm coming out."</p><p>"No, you are not," Drax gasped in between blows against the waves of Thanos's reinforcements.</p><p>"I have to," Mantis replied.  "Ebony Maw is here."</p><p>Drax paused for a moment as the implications of that statement hit him.  "I'll take care of him," he stated, searching for the new high priority target.</p><p>"No, you can't kill him" Mantis replied as she stepped out of the tunnel.</p><p>"What else do you do with bad people?" Drax asked, sounding confused.</p><p>Mantis considered explaining her plan, but knowing Drax, he wouldn't have seen the value.  "Just get me to him," she said instead before dodging a minion that had the bad misfortune to get in the middle of the fight between the two Asgardians.</p><p>Drax caught the miss and scowled. She reminded him so much of his little sister.  And, just like that little sister, when her mind was made up nothing was going to stop her.  His only choice was to let her die, or kill their target after escorting her.</p><p>"I'm on my way," he said, turning to drive through the enemies between the two of them.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>The Nova Prime surveyed the battle plot before her uncertainly.  None of her ships had escaped damage, but neither were any of them more than lightly bruised.  The same could not be said for their Shi'ar, and Kree 'allies' though.  Many of their ships had already been driven out of action. Others were severely damaged.</p><p>It wasn't just the Nova Corp's superior shields that contributed to that imbalance, she knew.  Shi'ar ships, while less well defended, were unmatched in maneuverability.  They also had some of the best ship to ship weapons in the galaxy.</p><p>Even so, it was the Kree bombardment vessels that had proved to be the greatest threat to The Sanctuary Two.  Their ship to ground weapons didn't always hit. Indeed, half of those fired had had to be detonated as they passed their massive target.  But when they hit, they did massive amounts of damage.  But the ships were also slow, relying on heavy armor instead of regenerative shielding to protect their vessels.</p><p>The Sanctuary Two had targeted them accordingly.  She couldn't lose those ships; not only were they doing the most damage to Thanos's vessel, but they were also integral to their failsafe measure.  She had the means to provide those ships with some protection, but it meant weakening her own forces.  Worse, she would be ordering her own people to die in the defense of a long time enemy.  A long-time enemy that might just use their depletion to its own advantage the moment the current threat was dealt with.</p><p>She was still trying to determine the best course when the scanning section reported.  "Thanos has socketed the final stone," the young tech stated loudly, seemingly unaware of the somber effect his statement had on the rest of the bridge.</p><p>Rael just nodded. "Captain, start the clock," she ordered.</p><p>"Yes Ma'am," the captain of the ship said.  "Start the clock," he echoed.  "Communications, inform our allies.  In six minutes and thirty seconds . . . we will enact our failsafe instructions," he finished, mouth twisting in disgust.  Their Kree 'allies' might not have ever had a problem with bombing civilian populations, but Nova Corp had never resorted to such barbaric measures.  It was something to be reviled and avoided, not enacted.  The knowledge that they had no choice was little comfort.</p><p>Irani Rael watched the captain's face for just a moment before coming to a decision. "Captain," she said quietly, "there's one other thing."  The captain listened to the orders with which he was presented with an increasingly stony disposition.  For a moment she thought he would argue with them, but in the end, he gave a curt nod before turning to snap more orders.  The Nova Prime watched the battle plot as her orders were carried out and hoped she'd made the right call.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>The Kree Accuser Indig-O was also watching that same plot, from her command ship.  She'd come to the same conclusion as to the fate of her fleet as The Nova Prime had, but she saw no way out.  A part of her wanted very badly to blame her nominal allies for not aiding her ships as they took the brunt of their shared adversary's attacks, even as another part pointed out that she would most likely have done the same in their places.</p><p>"Accuser," the captain of the ship called out "we must withdraw."</p><p>Indig-O considered the statement; in truth she found it very tempting to abandon the allies that had clearly abandoned them.  In any normal battle she'd probably have done so already. But this wasn't a normal battle.  The stakes were far higher here than in any border dispute.</p><p>"Negative," she said with a shake of the head.</p><p>"Ma'am," the captain argued "half of our ships have been destroyed.  Of the remainder, only The Eclipsed Arum is more than fifty percent functional."</p><p>Indig-O bit back a hot retort.  She was not used to subordinates questioning her orders.  She normally refused to repeat them.  On a good day she'd have had him removed for such impudence.  On a bad day she'd probably have crushed him like an empty beverage container and taken over command of the ship herself.  But she could see agreement with his suggestion echoed all over the bridge.</p><p>She took one breath before replying.  "Captain, I am aware of your concerns," she said thinly, making sure everyone was aware of her effort.  "This is not a normal situation.  If Thanos wins, we all lose. We will continue the engagement."  The captain looked as if he were about to argue, but a stony stare made him think better of it.</p><p>He'd barely turned back to the front of the ship when the sensor tech reported.  "Captain four Nova squadrons have broken formation."</p><p>"Cowards," the captain sneered. Indig-O chose to overlook the hypocrisy of that evaluation even as she wondered at its accuracy.  Degrading one's enemies was a common mistake in war; it led to underestimating their capabilities.  She'd fought Nova too often to believe they would run after the trifling damage they'd received.</p><p>"Destination?" she asked.</p><p>"Accuser, they appear to be heading towards our lines," the grizzled old tech reported.</p><p>"Are we betrayed?" the ship's second officer asked worriedly. Indig-O ignored it, though she considered it a far more likely explanation than cowardice.  Still, it made little sense to her. Granted, her version of sense often differed from other people's.</p><p>"Lock weapons," the Captain ordered.</p><p>"Belay that," Indig-O barked.  "Classification?" she asked.  In response the holo-imager in front of her sprang to life, showing silhouettes of the ships along with all known data.  She didn't need any of it to recognize a Nova Barrier Squadron when she saw it.  One squadron was comprised of eight to twelve Barrier Ships plus attached escorts.</p><p>The Barrier ships were specialized cruiser sized units that could project a powerful unidirectional shield.  That shield could be linked with the fields from other Barrier Ships to create a powerful and incredibly adaptable defensive field around anything they deemed in need.  Nova routinely used them to succor damaged ships, allowing them to continue fighting.  Often a Nova captain would shunt their shield power to their weapons when behind that wall of protection.  A barrier ship carried no offensive weapons whatsoever, yet had been the deciding factor in far too many engagements for her taste.</p><p>The entire bridge was silent as those vessels turned their unshielded backs to her forces, creating that very wall that had defied the Kree so many times between them and their enemy. The squadron's escorts fanned out in a defensive pattern designed to intercept fighters and missiles.</p><p>"About time," the Captain muttered as the Accuser's thoughts of a few moments prior came back to her.  She wanted to believe that she would have done the same.  She was forced to admit that she most likely would not have.  One thing was certain: the captain would not have, whatever his statement might have suggested.</p><p>"Scanning," she said a bit harsher than planned "ensure you gather as much data about those ships as you can."  In truth she doubted they'd learn anything useful from them.  They'd amassed plenty of data on those ships, even from this angle.  They knew what they did.  They just didn't understand how they did it.  Still, the order left her feeling a bit dirty.  But whatever she felt about it, she had her duty to the Kree Empire.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. In Any Given Moment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yankee Stadium</p><p> </p><p>Star Lord was finally making progress towards his delivery.  It wasn’t that Ironman was keeping the strange sorcerer’s complete attention; portals continued to open up in front of him.  But they were fewer and easier to dodge.  Partially that was due to how hard Stark was pressing him.  Mostly it was because of how far from the stadium their aerial battle had taken them.  It was clearly affecting the sorcerer’s depth perception; several of his portals opened up nowhere close to Quill’s path.</p><p>That almost worked once, when Quill’s randomly evasive flight almost had him juke into a portal that wasn’t actually in his way.  He managed to roll below it before contact.  Barely.</p><p>He made it to the edge of the area Antman and Black Dwarf had claimed as their arena just as Dwarf charged the larger, yet squishier human.  Lang caught the charging creature, took one step back, pivoted, and used its own momentum to throw it across the field.  It was a good move, but one look at Lang’s massive heaving chest was enough to see that he was running on fumes.</p><p>“Hey, you might want to give this a shot,” Quill called out, tossing the package down to the oversized human.  Lang caught it by the haft, examining it.</p><p>“Is this, what I think it is?” Antman gasped.</p><p>“Part of it,” Quill replied before blasting back to the portal Thanos had created.</p><p>Antman grabbed the haft of the bifurcated glaive like the handle of a knife in a reverse grip and turned to Dwarf.  The creature halted in its tracks as it recognized the only weapon to ever have hurt it before.  The normally simple, sadistic grin it kept on its face twisted to one of apprehension.</p><p>Lang took a few moments, to get his breathing back under control.  “Not so tough now, are you?” he taunted the creature.  It bellowed in rage and resumed its charge.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Bucky finished off yet another minion from the portal Thanos had opened and exchanged a quick glance with T’Challa.  He saw his own concerns reflected in the monarch’s face: they couldn’t hold for much longer. </p><p>The defensive fire from the stands had slackened as the soldiers there were forced to deal with breaches in their own lines.  They’d lost Cap.  Ironman was fighting to a draw against the new sorcerer.  Loki was keeping Thor busy, but the same could not be said in reverse; more than once he’d been tricked into attacking an illusion.  None had been fatal yet, but any could have been.  And now Drax had wandered off. </p><p>What had started as a perimeter around the enemy gate had turned into a defensive circle that was being pressed ever tighter.  They were holding that formation for the moment, with the help of the rest of the aerial unit and Spiderman, but the cost of that had been to leave the gate virtually unguarded.</p><p>Then another portal opened just off of the first.  Bucky’s heart dropped even as the fact that this was a different type of gate than the one they’d been defending registered.  That had been a clear plane, surrounded by crackling blue electricity.  This was a shadowy formless gloom.  It seemed to both take space and not at the same time.  And a frigid cold was issuing from it.</p><p>He'd barely taken in those differences when the first Frost Giant charged through, crashing into the largest of Thanos’s minions.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Bucky wasn’t the only one to note the sudden unexpected reinforcements.  The difference being that Thanos recognized what that passage was -and meant for his army- far quicker.  And he’d just socketed the last stone. </p><p>“Deal with that,” he ordered, turning from the sibling rivalry he’d created to Obsidian Maw.  Maw nodded, holding his communicator up to his face. </p><p>Another, larger, ring of fire opened in front of the shadow portal.  The narrow gap between the two was barely large enough to see blue somethings exiting one portal and entering another.  There was no telling where that second portal led.</p><p>Thanos started to turn back to his entertainment, stopping as he noted Drax and Mantis’s mad push for the silver tongued general.  Nor were they alone.  It was clear that Scarlet Witch, Spiderman, and Falcon were lending aid to their efforts.  He started forwards, to deal with that threat.</p><p>He’d made it only one step before a katana cut through a chink in his leg armor.  “You’re not going so soon, I hope,” Deadpool asked.  Thanos turned to glare at him, enraged.  Usually, when he killed someone, they had the good sense to stay dead.  But he could see that sense had little to do with the being standing before him.</p><p>“Admit it, you missed me,” Deadpool stated.</p><p>“I will wreak such pain on you that you will wish you could stay dead,” Thanos growled.</p><p>“Been there,” Deadpool replied with a shrug.  “Oh, and I have a message from your girlfriend,” he added.  “She’s my girlfriend now.”  Thanos’s eyes flared at that.  Without thinking he slammed his fist down on the red suited maniac.</p><p>Deadpool didn’t even try to dodge it.  “Hup, going on another date,” he stated, watching the torso sized fist drop.</p><p>&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>“No Drax, don’t kill him,” Mantis yelled as they cleared the last minion between them and Maw.  He shot a quizzical look backwards.  She ignored it, brushing past him.  Instead, Drax focused on defending her.  The sudden, short, influx of Frost Giants had made that relatively easy.</p><p>“And what, pray tell, are you going to accomplish?” Maw asked with an air of superiority.</p><p>“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, taking a step towards him.</p><p>“Oh?  Come to plead for your lives?” he asked, sounding quite amused at the prospect.</p><p>“No, I’ve come to help you,” she said, taking another step.</p><p>“What help do you think I need from you, child?” he asked, voice dripping with condescension.</p><p>Mantis took one more step forward, just out of arm’s reach.  “I want to help you see what you’ve done,” she said, pouncing forward.  He reflexively moved to block the perceived attack, but she simply grabbed the closer of his wrists.  It was cold, and clammy to the touch, but she held on anyway.  Her antennae flared.  “You feel guilt,” she stated.</p><p>The expression on his face morphed instantly, from cold amusement to pain.  Every harm he’d ever inflicted to every one of his targets rolled through his head like a tidal wave.  His gut felt as if it contained a singularity.  His head pounded.  He couldn’t think.  He could barely breath.  Every muscle seemed to quiver as if exhausted.</p><p>It was clearly an emotion he was unaccustomed to.  He dropped to the ground, making little panting wheezing sounds.  “Please,” he muttered pitiably.  “Please make it stop.”</p><p>“You know what you have to do,” Mantis said, matching her victim’s coldness, maintaining her grip on his wrist.  He looked up at her helplessly.  To do what she asked would mark him for a slow death.  But, like all of the family, he knew Thanos’s methods of torture intimately.  Those were preferable to this feeling.  Anything was better than this.</p><p>He nodded slowly, and raised his communicator back to his mouth.  Anything to appease this pain, even risking Thanos’s ire.  “I release you,” he stated.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Obsidian Maw’s words reached Strange and seemed to unravel something in his brain.  He blinked and shook his head, momentarily disoriented.  Tony saw the change, but couldn’t be certain what it meant. </p><p>He considered waiting to see if Strange was coming to his senses, yet knew he couldn’t take the chance that whatever sense Strange had regained might be short lived.  Instead, he hit the sorcerer with a maximum power chest arc.  The blast knocked the sorcerer out and sent him tumbling into the distance.  After a few seconds his cape righted his tumble, stopping his fall entirely.  But, it did nothing for his horizontal movement.  Strange’s unconscious form hung from it as he slid further away.</p><p>Tony considered several options.  He considered killing Strange.  He considered leaving him bound.  He considered gambling that the sorcerer would remain unconscious long enough to finish things.  In the end he fired a couple sets of manacles at him.  The cape dodged the dumb projectiles adroitly and accelerated further away.</p><p>“Shit!” Tony muttered before turning around and jetting back towards the stadium at maximum thrust.  He’d already lost too much time battling Strange.  Bad enough that their fight had taken them so far from the stadium.  He’d just have to hope the sorcerer stayed out of the rest of the fight.  Somehow, he didn’t think that would be the case.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“No!” Thanos bellowed in rage at Maw’s treachery.  He snatched Nebula back up as she dodged another of Gamora’s attacks.  He grabbed the sword he’d given Gamora as well.  It was little more than a small dagger in his hands as he hurled it at Mantis.</p><p>“Mantis!” Drax yelled, interposing himself upon the flight path.  The sword pierced clean through his chest up to the hilt.  He slammed limply to the ground, rolling more than once.</p><p>“Drax!” Mantis yelled in turn, going to the fallen berserker’s side.  She never saw the minion that beheaded her.</p><p>“As for you,” Thanos continued, holding Nebula high over his head.  He focused the entirety of his telekinetic abilities to cause the molecules in the air around Nebula to create such static friction that they became a plasma.  Nebula screamed in as much surprise as pain as the flames scorched her skin, and burned her clothes to it.  Thanos continued exciting the air molecules as she writhed in pain.</p><p>Again, Banner fell from his invisible cage.  But this time Thanos failed to catch him.  Punishing Nebula had taken every ounce of his focus.  And punishing her beyond the point of the repair protocols he’d installed took it for too long.  </p><p>The diminutive scientist deliberately kept himself from bracing for the coming impact with the ground; if he was going to coerce the Hulk out of his sulk, he was going to need every advantage he could find.  Broken bones seemed like a good start.</p><p>It turned out to be unnecessary.  As he reached a height five feet above ground level one of Thanos’s minions backhanded him away.  The blow slammed him into the stadium wall near the top, lodging him in the very hole his body had created. </p><p>And still The Hulk would not come.  He glanced at the field of battle frantically.  His body was broken in more places than he’d believed possible.  But the Hulk would not come.  He tried to claw his way out of the hole himself but a sharp stab of pain in his back forced him to stop.  He yelped in pain, a response that in no way dictated the vision blurring amount of pain that singular action had caused.</p><p>As the pain lowered itself back to simply excruciating, he opened his eyes again.  As he watched his friends fight, he found something to fear that was far worse than his fear of the Hulk: an inability to help his friends.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Tony had made it within unassisted visual distance of the stadium by the time Thanos finished with his immolation.  He watched as Thanos spiked Nebula’s burnt body onto the ground in front of Gamora.  Nebula continued trying to reach Thanos as that massive foot continued hammering down on her, crushing her bones, breaking her limbs. </p><p>As Gamora watched the destruction of her sister the blue light faded from her eyes.  Gone from her face was the calm of the mind control.  In its place was a horror at what she’d unwillingly helped Thanos do.</p><p>Thanos saw the look and grinned sadistically.  Then he looked back down at Nebula’s crumpled form, repair protocols futilely trying to put her back together.  “This is what your good deeds have bought you,” he sneered.  “All you’ve accomplished is to protect the very source of your own destruction.”</p><p>His words hit Gamora like hammers.  She knew what he was saying, but she didn’t want to believe it, normally wouldn’t believe it.  But something about it rang true.  She looked between them, searching for something to say.</p><p>“You didn’t know that she was sacrificing herself to protect you?” Thanos gloated.  “Strange; she’s not that good a liar,” he added before turning away from her.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Tony was having a slightly different moral conflict.  Thanos’s systematic destruction of Nebula’s body had evoked feeling he hadn’t expected.  Not romantic feelings by any shot.  It was more like she was his friend’s girlfriend.  His friend who wasn’t there to help her because he’d sacrificed himself to save Tony. </p><p>“Her self-repair systems will take care of her, right?” Tony asked as he continued jetting towards them.</p><p>“Not from that much damage,” Friday said quietly.  Tony winced at that, hesitated.  He watched Thanos taunt Gamora, recognizing that he’d taken both of them out of the fight.  And there was only one thing he could think of to change that: a sacrifice he wasn’t sure he was prepared to make.  Even the thought was terrifying to him.  Yet it felt like the right thing to do.  He couldn’t explain it.</p><p>“What about including the suit’s healing protocols?” he asked finally.  He found himself hoping the answer would be no.</p><p>Friday hesitated.  “Possibly,” she admitted at last.</p><p>Tony’s mouth twisted with his internal struggle.  A day ago, this would have been an easy choice.  Back when Nebula had simply been a psychopath, he’d have kept his suit.  But now everything was more complex.  He knew what Steve would say.  He could almost hear it from his friend’s voice: ‘trust her’ was all it said.  He considered that.  He considered the losses they’d already taken.  He considered that his heap of guilt was high enough already.</p><p>“Rocket,” he almost barked just as Thanos turned away from Gamora “I need a gun.”</p><p>“Oh, what’s that?” Rocket asked acidly.  “The super-humie needs one of <em>my</em> guns?”</p><p>“ROCKET!” Gamora screamed.</p><p>“All right, all right,” Rocket said placatingly, taking a small device out of his pack.  “Catch,” he said, pressing a button on its side and tossing it into the air.  It began expanding as it followed its trajectory.</p><p>Tony altered course slightly.  Then, as their paths intersected, the suit opened.  Tony fell from the suit, caught the gun, hit the ground in a roll, and came up firing.  The suit adjusted again and plowed into Thanos before he could react.  As he rolled backwards it dropped to the ground and began enveloping Nebula.  It couldn’t completely envelop her; too many parts were jutting at odd angles.  It was forced to wait for the Luphoid’s repair protocols to snap those parts back into place first.  Green light spilled from the open portions of the suit.</p><p>“No!” Thanos bellowed, getting back to his feet.  “You will not alter their fate!” he yelled, stomping on the suit.</p><p>Before his foot could land the suit was yanked out from under his foot by one of Spiderman’s webs.  Thanos moved to grasp it telekinetically, but another strand of webbing covered his face.  Thanos bellowed in rage, swiping the stuff off with one hand.  Peter reapplied.</p><p>On the third try Thanos was able to block the globule of goo and hurl it back at Peter.  He set off to finish Nebula, but was intercepted by Star Lord, shooting him in the face.  He grabbed one of his minions and hurled it at the space rogue, continuing on.  By then Thor was there with his hammer.  Thanos knocked him away only to be confronted by Brunnhilde.</p><p>Gamora spied one of Deadpool’s neutronium katanas laying near his transient corpse.  Impulsively she snatched it up, charging after Thanos.  She attacked madly, uncoordinatedly.  Her hatred for Thanos ruled.  There was no thought.  She would never have survived if it hadn’t been for the constant stream of allies Thanos kept having to brush out of his path.  She found herself beseeching Nebula, begging her to get up.</p><p>Tony knew better than to take on Thanos with nothing but a pea shooter; he’d fallen back from the others, watching their backs.  Not that he didn’t take the occasional pot shot at Thanos, but even those were solely designed to let one of the heavy hitters get a shot in on him.  When he heard Gamora he recognized the pit it came from.  But he also saw something else: a possibility.</p><p>Tony had told Steve he thought the sisterly duo had the best chance of keeping Thanos busy.  Steve had warned him about the difference between ability and capability to confront their long-time tormentor.  He’d said they’d tell them when they were ready.  Perhaps they already had.</p><p>He keyed the bone induction communicator wrapped around his head on, regretting for at least the tenth time in two minutes the loss of Steve; he was much better with people.  But Steve wasn’t there. </p><p>“Nebula,” he said, firing the cannon in his hands “get up.”  He dodged a wild swipe coming up swinging.  He dodged yet another attacker.  Rocket strafed in to finish it off.  Tony took that reprieve to do two things: fire a shot at Thanos’s face, and continue cajoling an unconscious woman.</p><p>“Nebula, the suit’s not pajamas,” he said, nervous eyes on the battlefield for the next threat.  He’d never been completely exposed in battle like this.  A quick poll of his internal voices confirmed that he didn’t like it.</p><p>He liked it even less when a piece of rebar shot out of the crowded enemies at him.  It had to travel more than fifty meters to him, yet he was still only barely able to dodge it.</p><p>“Dammit Nebula,” he added, suddenly irritated “you never backed down to him before.  You’ve got my suit.  Make it count!”</p><p>Whether due to Tony’s words, or the beseeching of the two of them, or simple coincidence, Nebula’s eyes popped open.  She sucked in a lungful of air and groaned, rolling slowly over in the suit.  Her entire body hurt worse than it ever had before, but the feeling subsided quickly.  She noted the metal covering her body had obtained as she got to her hands and knees.</p><p>“Why am I alive?” she asked quietly.</p><p>“Your friends wouldn’t let you die,” Friday answered.  That statement made Nebula look up.  She saw Thanos trying to get to her.  She saw her allies, her . . . friends, throwing themselves at him, buying her time.  She saw the haphazard, uncoordinated manner in which they attacked, saw that their entire strategy had devolved into hitting him as hard as they could and hoping another would be there to stop Thanos from taking advantage of the opening their assault had made in their own defenses.</p><p>That sight untwisted something deep inside of her.  No one had ever risked so much as a hang nail for her; not since her brother a lifetime ago.  But these people.  These people were spending themselves for her.  They were risking the galaxy.  For her.</p><p>There had always been this small part of her that believed she wasn’t worthy of help, that she was tainted, irredeemable.  And, as she’d made her own sacrifices, that part of her self had become stronger, until she’d believed it wholly. </p><p>And now this.</p><p>“I’m connecting to your cerebral implant,” Friday said, interrupting Nebula’s chain of thought.  “Deleting punishment protocols,” she added.  Before Nebula could object a wave of relief spread throughout her body.  She groaned in surprise; it had been so long since she’d felt no pain, a half-remembered dream.  She’d forgotten how good it felt.</p><p>“Downloading suit specifications and tolerances,” Friday continued.  Nebula found herself flooded with data about the tool Tony had made at her disposal.</p><p>As Nebula grappled with those changes Thanos was making adjustments of his own.  He was too late to stop the reversal of Nebula’s sentence, and that failure burned through him.  It flashed into a rage at the one who, more than any other, had brought about that pardon.  He twisted to his new target, catching his assailants off guard; several missed him entirely.  The others were easily batted away.</p><p>Before they could regroup, he’d closed on Tony.  Tony saw the oncoming juggernaut and backpedaled, firing several shots into his face.  Thanos ignored them.  He took a series of quick strides, reached down and relieved Tony of his weapon, crunching it into scrap with one might fist.  The other snatched the defenseless tinker off of the ground.</p><p>The rest of his assailants halted their attacks in fear of hitting their ally.  The retaliatory threat was obvious.  Deep down they knew the odds that Thanos wouldn’t crush Tony anyway were remote.  They knew they could not afford to waste the time, even for him.  Yet, they could not bring themselves to be the one that killed him.  A classic Thanos no win scenario.</p><p>“Why don’t you try that with me?!” Thor yelled. </p><p>Thanos gave Thor a dismissive glance.  “Deal with that,” he stated to no one in particular.  A moment later, the pocket of peace surrounding Thanos collapsed as his minions attacked.  The rest of the group quickly found themselves worrying about more personal threats.</p><p>“Do you see?  You have changed nothing,” Thanos growled, turning back to Tony. </p><p>“Pissed you off, didn’t I?” Tony replied, glaring defiantly into that massive face.  In response, Thanos tightened his grip, not to the point of breaking things, but enough to make Tony grunt in pain.</p><p>“She will still die, as will you all,” he stated as if stating the sun would rise in the morning.  “Nothing can change that, for you lack true power.  You lack the will to seize it.  And, as your reward for failure, I will save for last.  Your screams will compete with the memory of theirs.”</p><p>Banner watched his friend get seized by the massive purple gorilla, and instinctively tried again to lever himself back out of his hole.  He wasn’t sure what he could accomplish exactly; all he knew was that his friend was in need. </p><p>His effort brought that raw pain back again, but he struggled through it.  He groaned and growled in pain, but still he could not get his broken body to budge.  He found himself beseeching . . . someone.  Beseeching someone he could not see, someone that was not there. </p><p>Beseeching The Hulk.</p><p>“Please,” he begged “it’s Tony.”  He could feel the beast stirring inside of his mind, but still it would not come.  He collapsed back into the wall as the pain overtook him.  “So, this is all we are, is it?” he asked the beast.  “Just another bully that only fights when he knows he can win?  Just like him?” he added, referring to his abusive father.  The Hulk shivered at that.  He could feel its rage.</p><p>“Please,” he said again.  “I know I never trusted you.  I tried to shove you in a hole.  But Tony did.  Tony believed in us.  Maybe I’m not worthy of your trust, but I’m asking you to trust me anyways.  We can do this.  Together.”</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Nebula’s download finished.  It had taken less than a second, but she knew everything about the suit, could have built one herself if she’d so chosen.  She knew its limitation, both soft and hard.  She knew its weak points, and strengths.</p><p>She looked up again to see Tony hanging from Thanos’s maw.  Her armored fingers instinctively crunched handholds into the ground.  For that moment all fear seemed to slip away.  Her past, the future, all were rendered meaningless.  There was only the present.  There was only the target and the mission.</p><p>“Let’s kick his ass,” Friday stated.  Nebula launched herself forward, thrusting well past the soft cap on the suit’s repulsors.</p><p>Thanos saw it.  He responded by spiking Tony to the ground and turning to face this latest challenge.  As Tony hit, the bones in his right arm fractured.  He rolled off of it, holding the damaged appendage close this body.  A familiar roar from the wall drew a pained smile on his face.</p><p>Thanos wasn’t the only one to see Nebula’s imitation of a rocket.  She’d made it barely ten feet before Loki stepped out from the shadows.  The illusion Thor had been fighting disappeared as Loki conjured a sorcerer’s portal directly in front of her.  Even for her, there was barely time to perceive the gateway before she reached it.  The ballistic cyborg disappeared through the passage.</p><p>Thanos turned back to Tony.  “Do you see the true value of your vaunted cooperation?” he sneered.  “The randomness of trust?  The only true power is the power to rule and dominate.  The only true strength is-” he said, stopping suddenly as Nebula appeared mere feet from him, still thrusting.</p><p>She braked with the suit’s palm repulsors, just enough to right herself, then threw her shoulder into Thanos’s.  As Newton decreed, the result of her not insignificant mass, plus the suit’s mass, all moving close to three hundred and fifty kilometers per hour sent the much larger Titan tumbling away while nearly completely arresting her own momentum.  Had it not been for the suit’s inertial stabilizers she would have passed out, augments and all.</p><p>“What was that?” Tony called out as Thanos careened away.  “You mumbled that last bit.”</p><p>Nebula turned to Tony, revealing the flattened part of the armor’s shoulder where she’d impacted Thanos.  Her eyes flicked to his wounded arm before she said “You can have your suit back.”</p><p>Tony nearly jumped at the chance to regain his armor.  His broken arm, and cracked ribs all screamed for the suit’s healing abilities.  Not to mention the fact that his only weapon had been destroyed.  But-</p><p>He shook his head.  “You can keep it for now,” he said, surprising even himself.  She scanned his face for a moment, as if looking for something, some indication that he wasn’t just saying what she wanted to hear.  He saw the look, understood its meaning.  “You wear it better than I ever did,” he explained with a shrug.  She held her inquiring gaze for another moment before returning a quick nod and turning back to Thanos.</p><p>By that point he’d managed to right himself again and was glaring across the field.  Only now he wasn’t glaring at Tony.  He wasn’t even glaring at Nebula, deliverer of the most awesome of shoulder checks.  Loki had apparently become the brunt of his ire.  His next words confirmed that appraisal.</p><p>“Loki,” he rumbled menacingly enough to unnerve even his own troops “you have forgotten the price of disobedience.  I promise a refresher.”</p><p>“I doubt anyone could forget your gentle touch,” Loki replied evenly.</p><p>“Oh?” Thanos asked, seeming surprised.  “Do you doubt that one broken with my . . . gentle touch,” he said with a slight grin for the euphemism “would even contemplate betraying me?”</p><p>“An excellent point,” Loki replied.  “But it assumes that you broke me.”</p><p>“I looked into your mind,” Thanos rumbled.  “I broke you.”</p><p>Loke straightened slightly at that, flashing his trademark mischievous smile.  “I’m the god of lies,” he replied, as if that answered everything.</p><p>Thanos snarled and charged.  Loki, Thor, Nebula, Gamora, and Bucky returned the charge.  Falcon and Quill peppered Thanos with ranged attacks, keeping him from being able to concentrate on his telekinesis. </p><p>The Hulk/Banner combination started to follow, but thought better of it.  Not just because the Hulk’s strength and durability hadn’t proved to be any kind of an asset in previous engagements, but also because he ran the risk of squashing the smaller allies already rushing to intercept Thanos. </p><p>He rushed to Tony, to help defend him.  But the tinker merely shook his head in their direction, waving them towards Lang.  Banner/Hulk hesitated.  Tony was completely exposed.  He was defenseless.  And he was their friend, quite possibly the only friend The Hulk had ever had.</p><p>But he was also right: they were the only ones that could help Lang.  And the mission was of far greater importance than any one person.</p><p>Had it just been The Hulk, that would not have been enough to sway him from going to his wounded friend.  But Banner knew better.  The battle over that decision nearly split the two recently merged personalities back apart, yet somehow, they held together.</p><p>Instead, they decided to help Antman with Dwarf.  By that point, Lang’s exhaustion at operating enlarged was so severe that even the improvised knife/glaive couldn’t balance the engagement.  As the Hulk/Banner combo charged Dwarf feinted left, drawing a wild swipe from Lang, before tackling the larger man to the ground. </p><p>Before he could pound the engineer into pulp Hulk/Banner tackled him in turn, throwing his larger body into the stadium wall.  Lang got slowly to his feet, the two of them squaring off against Dwarf.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>This charge was different than Nebula’s last.  For one she wasn’t alone this time.  Instead of running at maximum thrust she’d slowed her flight speed to that of Thor’s.  But that just gave her more time to contemplate what she was doing.  On top of that, that determination to make a difference that had accompanied her last charge was missing.  Thanos hadn’t been wrong about the effects of his brand of torture.  A part of her still wondered at her breaking away from him at all.  That part was shouted down by the knowledge that it was far too late to go back.</p><p>Another difference between this charge and the last was the moment she started braking.  Last time she’d braked just enough to right herself.  But she knew Thanos would expect that same tactic.  He tended to think in terms of overpowering tactics.  But she didn’t want to send him flying again.  She wanted him surrounded.</p><p>Instead she braked earlier, aiming the suit’s overcharged palm repulsors directly at Thanos’s face.  Sadly, that too was not a new tactic to him; he was able to get a hand up to block the product of her reverse thrust.</p><p>But that too blinded him, just long enough for Thor to bring Mjolnir into play.  And as he reeled from that hit Nebula was there with a left cross, staggering him the opposite direction.  Right back into Thor’s backhand swing.</p><p>For a split second she found herself hoping they could keep that up indefinitely.  But even as she thought it Thanos countered.  He used the momentum of Thor’s strike to make a wild swing in her direction.  Nebula back-thrusted quickly, barely missing him.</p><p>But that wild swipe came at a cost: moving Nebula out of striking range.  It would have been a fatal cost for Thor, if not for the arrival of the rest of the charge.  Gamora was able to slide her blade into the chink under his armpit.  He roared, trying to backhand her, but by then Nebula was back, deflecting the blow.  Then it was Thor’s turn.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>While they kept Thanos busy a defensive group formed around Tony consisting of Spiderman, Vision, Bucky, Brunnhilde, and T’Challa.  Quill landed just long enough to lend Tony one of his pistols before launching back into the air.</p><p>Despite that group’s throw weight, it found itself being pushed towards the stadium walls by the continuing stream of Thanos’s Reinforcements.  Black Widow and Okoye led a small group of Wakandan soldiers to assist them.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Stephen Strange awoke suddenly.  He found himself floating over the Harlem River, confused about how he’d arrived in that position.  Then, in a rush, everything that had happened -including his bizarre decisions- flooded back into his brain.  He wasn’t entirely sure what he was thinking, or why he’d come to his senses.  The only thing he was sure of was that he had to undo what he’d tried to do.</p><p>He quickly opened another portal leading back to the space above the stadium and flew through it.  Upon arrival he moved the portal he’d placed in front of the Frost Giant’s shadowy passage to Thanos’s gateway.  He then opened another portal to the Antarctic site where he’d been sending the preceding Frost Giants.  Allied reinforcements began to stream into the site, pushing the masses of Thanos’s minions back foot by foot.</p><p>&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>For a few moments the spontaneous team up fighting Thanos was able to maintain their momentum, countering Thanos’s blows, hampering his movement, striking when the opportunity availed itself.  But, for all their success, they weren’t really damaging him.  Causing him some pain, yes.  But doing any appreciable damage?  No.  Even Mjolnir, for all its power, did little more than move Thanos around, and only when he couldn’t prepare for the blow.</p><p>The moment he realized what Strange had done, that all changed.  “No!” he screamed, backhanding Thor across the stadium, towards Tony’s group.  He snatched Nebula out of the air yet again before slamming the ground with his other fist.  With that fist came all of his telekinetic ability.  The shockwave it produced was of such magnitude that it did more than just kick up dust, or create a pit; it launched his assailants away.  Even the aerial unit found themselves along for the ride, madly trying to correct their flight.</p><p>Such was the power of that blast that it impacted the walls of the stadium and traveled upwards to damage the overhangs over the third tier.  The angle with which the blast hit caused sections of the overhangs to rain down on the now mostly empty center of the stadium.</p><p>Nor did that shockwave discriminate between friend or foe.  All around him were launched away, regardless of size.  Tony’s group was far enough away that they were able to keep their feet, but their lines were suddenly inundated with enemy combatants.  Enemy combatants that were quick in getting back to their feet.  The wave had also had a secondary effect of canceling out the Frost Giant’s gateway.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>The three much larger combatants had been able to brace themselves against the blast, despite their larger volume.  Lang took that momentary break to offer the weapon in his hand to Hulk/Banner.  The recipient of such gave him a quizzical look as they reached out for it.</p><p>“Stick a fork in me . . .” Lang panted “I’m, done.”  Hulk/Banner took the weapon and watched as Lang staggered over to the left field wall and all but collapsed, draped over it.  He returned to normal and slid over into the stands, unconscious.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Thanos seesawed his arms, raising Nebula into the air before slamming her onto the ground, pinning her there.  There was a brief struggle, ending with him kneeling on her hips, his right hand pinning her left to the ground.  Her right hand was clamped to his left wrist, trying to keep it from her throat, the motors in both arms whining terribly about the strain.  She grunted with effort, agreeing with them.</p><p>The suit’s helmet had been knocked off in the struggle, leaving Nebula trying to match the cold malice in Thanos’s gaze with her own explosive rage.</p><p>“I understand resurrections to be immensely painful,” Thanos commented almost casually.  Nebula failed to respond, instead focusing all of her effort on stopping his arm.  She just had to hold out until her friends could get to her.  “All just to die at my hands again.”  He sounded almost sorrowful that he was going to kill her again.  Nebula grunted in pain.  She could feel the suit trying to repair her ripping muscles as she tore them.</p><p>That sorrow was absent from Thanos’s next words.  “Only this time will not be the last,” he told her.  “I released you once.  Now you must pay for their defiance,” he said, inching his arm closer to her throat, making it clear that he wasn’t using his full strength. </p><p>Nebula’s eyes snapped to that looming pincer comprised of one thumb and forefinger as the realization that she couldn’t actually stop him when he decided to kill her sank in.  A myriad of emotions swirled inside of her: fear at dying, helplessness at the thought of being brought back only to die again, rage at the knowledge that this was exactly what Thanos wanted her to feel, anger at the others for saving her, anger at herself for taking the opportunity when it came.  It all swirled around inside of her like a tie dye of emotion.</p><p>“Was it worth it?” Thanos asked, forcing her to look back at his face.  It was as if his voice had cut through the very emotions it had caused.  In one moment of epiphany all her rage and fear, all her self-loathing and doubt seemed to burn away once again leaving only . . . the purpose.</p><p>She looked directly at him, as she’d been afraid of doing her whole life.  “I would die a thousand deaths to kill you . . . <em>monster</em>,” she replied, giving special emphasis to that last word.  Then she released his wrist.</p><p>As his fingers grasped her neck, her gauntleted fingers grasped The Tesseract in its housing on his gauntlet.  As he crushed her wind pipe, she yanked the Infinity Stone from its housing.  It hit the ground, emitting a blinding flash of light and stunning everyone in the immediate area, which was mostly Thanos.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>“Irani,” the sensor section shouted “sensors indicate that one stone has been separated from the Gauntlet.”</p><p>She nodded quickly, choosing to overlook the excitement the young tech had shown.  “Stop the clock,” she ordered.  “Status of The Sanctuary 2?” she asked.</p><p>“Considerable hull damage,” the Captain reported.  “Her armor is a sieve.”</p><p>“Have the fleet begin targeting her power systems,” Rael ordered.  The captain nodded agreement and ordered communications to relay the command to the rest of their fleet, what was left of it.  More than half of the ships in the combined fleet had been driven out of action or destroyed outright.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>“Accuser,” the comm tech called out “the Novarians have signaled to begin targeting power systems.”</p><p>“It’s about time,” the Accuser muttered to herself.  “Comply,” was the only thing the rest of her bridge crew actually heard.  Shortly thereafter their target became riddled with explosions.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Strange was the first of the flyers to recover from the tumble Thanos’s shockwave had caused, thanks to his magic cape of flight.  He quickly assessed the plight of his fellow sky brethren.  Most seemed in the midst of regaining control, but Wanda had been knocked out by debris from the blast.  He created a portal under her that opened above and in front of him.  He flew downwards, matching her fall before snagging her out of the air and reversing their course.  Then he re-opened the portal to Antarctica.  A moment later Thanos’s portal emitted a gout of fire before closing in on itself.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>The moment Nebula released Thanos’s wrist, Mjolnir abandoned Thor mid overhand strike, turning a blow that could have set a railroad spike in one hit into a still not insignificant bop on the head.  A bop that sent his opponent’s chin into the ground.</p><p>“Have you considered renaming it ‘the doorknob’?” Spiderman asked Thor, referring to the Asgardian hammer’s sudden departure.</p><p>“What; why a doorknob?” Thor asked, as he shifted fighting styles.  Before anyone could respond, a flash of light illuminated the entire stadium briefly.  Fortunately, it was at enough distance to only create spots in the visions of anyone exposed.</p><p>“Because everyone gets a turn,” Widow explained, as she dodged an attack and fired her taser bolts at the attacker.</p><p>Thor grinned.  “Kid, it is fitting that Tony was the one that found you,” he said.</p><p>“Gee thanks Mr. Asgardian,” Parker replied.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Gamora had immediately picked herself back up after Thanos’s shockwave and begun charging back to her sister’s aid.  She was halfway there when she saw the blue gem arcing from Thanos’s gauntlet.  She instinctively held one hand up to shield her eyes as the blast went off, relying on her memory of the terrain between herself and her target to keep her on her feet.</p><p>Thanos recovered from the blinding light and immediately sought out the wayward Infinity Stone.  He reached his left hand out, grasping the gem telekinetically.  Before he could reel it in Gamora slid her katana into a gap in the back of his armor.</p><p>Thanos reared back, backhanding Gamora away with a roar.  The moment his right hand was free, Nebula’s repair protocols kicked in, returning her flattened windpipe to its normal shape, resetting her vertebrae.</p><p>The process was still in action when the hammer slid into her outstretched -and now free- left hand.  Her eyes opened.  She spared one surprised look at the hammer before swinging it in a mighty arc that terminated with Thanos’s head.  It was a swing augmented not just by her prosthetic, or her general body upgrades, but by the suit as well.  A swing with an unstoppable force at the other end.</p><p>Thanos turned back from his backhand just in time to see it hit him in the face.  His not inconsequential mass was lifted off of the ground and sent flipping end over end in the direction of the blow.  Nebula continued the motion of the strike into a sitting, then standing position.  Her repair protocols finished just as she turned to where Thanos had fallen.</p><p>She looked upon him calmly. </p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“Thor, get The Tesseract,” Tony ordered, dodging a blow. </p><p>“Tony,” Thor started to argue then stopped.  They still had enemies in their defensive perimeter.  On three separate occasions Thor had been the only one able to keep Tony alive.  If he left, there was a good chance his friend wouldn’t survive.</p><p>Tony turned to look at Thor, and for one brief moment a shared understanding flashed between them, almost as if they’d had an entire conversation.  It was only for a split second, but in that moment, Thor could see the exact same appraisal in Tony’s eyes.  Tony knew the risk he was running.  And as much as Thor didn’t want to lose another friend, he also knew Tony was right.</p><p>“Finish the mission,” Tony replied emphatically.  Thor paused for one more moment, then gave a quick nod, and sprinted across the field.  “Peter, give him a hand,” Tony added.  Again, there was a pause as that ordered felt the urge to obey.  Again, it passed, this time without comment.</p><p>“Yes Mr. Stark,” Peter said stiffly.  He webbed down a few of the bigger minions, then attached a strand from each hand to their backs.  He pulled the strands taut and then launched himself after Thor.</p><p>The defensive group collapsed further around their vulnerable tinker.  Wanda and Strange lent what aid they could, but the tightness of that group within the melee, and the speed with which everyone kept moving made it difficult for them to be assured of hampering the correct party.  Rocket did what he could from the air, dealing with similar impediments.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Thanos stood back up, glowering at Nebula.  He reached up slowly to his jaw and reseated it without so much as a twitch in his murderous expression.  He made no threats.  His expression said it all; he was no longer amused.  He snapped his hand out again, attempting to recall the stone once more, never taking his eyes off of her.</p><p>Quill shot the stone out of the air with his new and improved repulsor setting.  As Thanos turned to deal with him Nebula hurled Mjolnir at him.  Thanos expected it.  He immediately turned back from the annoyance of the space rogue to deal with the minor threat of the hammer.</p><p>But it was not one mythical hammer that left her hand, but seven, each aiming for a different part of The Mad Titan’s body.  Lacking the time to ascertain which was the real hammer, Thanos took his best guess, preparing to catch the one headed for his face. </p><p>He guessed poorly.  As the various hammers intersected his body they disappeared.  All but one; the non-illusory Mjolnir impacted his lower left leg, neatly sweeping it out from under him.</p><p>Thanos caught himself, with his left arm and spared a quick glare for Loki, an expression that was quickly being diluted with use.  It also kept him immobile long enough for Mjolnir’s return trajectory to intersect with his left shoulder blade.  The hammer decloaked just before striking him.</p><p>Thanos rolled with the hit, grabbing a large piece of debris from the ground -a mechanical arm shed by one of his children- and throwing it at Nebula.  Without waiting to see if it struck, he pivoted to charge for The Tesseract, grabbing and hurling other opportune pieces of debris in Star Lord’s direction.</p><p>Nebula dodged to avoid the incoming missile, but a quick telekinetic redirect curved its path in the same direction.  It hit her almost dead on, sending her careening into the stadium wall.  Quill managed to avoid the barrage of missiles, but the constant influx kept him from being able to do anything else until it was too late.</p><p>Thanos reached The Tesseract and bent down to scoop it up, when his vision was suddenly occluded by webbing.  He reached blindly for its location, but more webbing snapped it off of the ground.  Parker yanked on the strand, sending the stone flying directly at Thor, before releasing it.  He then webbed himself to the ground, arresting the flight path his makeshift slingshot had started him on.</p><p>As Thor caught the stone arcs of electricity began traveling down his arm eventually encompassing his entire body.  His eyes began to glow with an electric light.  Bolts of lightning began spilling from his body, hitting any nearby enemies.  He held his free hand out, palm up, releasing the most powerful bolt of lightning he’d ever created.  Except this was no bolt; t was a continuous stream of electricity even more powerful than any bolt that had ever sundered Mother Earth.</p><p>Thanos raised his right hand to block that blast just as Gamora and Nebula converged on him again.  He fended them off with his free hand as best he could, a new feeling began creeping up from the center of his chest.</p><p>Nebula attacked with a calm she had never before known.  For the first time in her life there was no past, no future.  There was only this objective.  It was as if time had slowed almost to a stop for her, as if she had all the time in the world to consider the many options available to her before making a single attack.  Thanos’s feints, once so convincing, now seemed obvious.  His attacks seemed completely predictable.  She countered them with dodges, hammer strikes, and repulsor blasts as needed.</p><p>It was much the same for Gamora, yet different.  There was no calm in Gamora’s attacks.  Thanos had made her an unwilling participant in her sister’s near demise, which infuriated her.  Then he’d gloated about how the very person she’d been forced to help kill had been her lifelong protector.  She’d wanted to deny it, but a part of her knew it to be true.  It was a part of her that she’d ignored for years, but she could ignore it no longer.</p><p>Now she had the opportunity to . . . not repay Nebula -nothing could repay that debt- but support her.  Show her that she would stand with her, make her see that it hadn’t been for nothing.  It was that determination to be there for her sister in all but blood that burned away all fear, anger, and self-doubt.  But it left a cold malice with its purpose.</p><p>Thanos tried to maneuver to place one of his attackers in the path of Thor’s continuous lightning bolt but every time he tried to move Nebula would hammer him back into place.  If he attacked her, Gamora would find one of the increasing number of gaps in his ravaged armor.  Gaps that the minor arcs from Thor’s lighting stream took full advantage of.  If he went for Gamora, Nebula would intercede.</p><p>On impulse, Nebula tossed Gamora the hammer.  Gamora caught the fickle instrument and continued the motion into a backhand swing that staggered Thanos.  They shared the hammer from that moment on.  This cooperation was further complicated as Loki began making duplicates of the hammer, making it almost impossible for Thanos to keep track of which was real.  It didn’t seem to affect the sisters though.</p><p>As their fight continued so did the unknown feeling growing in Thanos’s chest.  It wasn’t until Nebula’s hand snaked out to rip the Mind Stone from the Gauntlet that he was able to define it.  As she tossed it up in the air, he suddenly knew an emotion he’d caused in so many others: despair.  The two sisters recognized the expression at once and were emboldened further by it.  Their attacks doubled in ferocity.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>“Jarvis, you’re up!” Tony called out, firing Quills gun in repulsor mode to knock enemies away.  Jarvis’s hesitation was even shorter than the others.</p><p>“I could use a lift,” he told Brunnhilde.  The Valkyrie obligingly grabbed him by the arm and hurled him into the air.  And the defensive circle shrank again.  However, the influx of Frost Giants was steadily thinning the ranks of Thanos’s minions.  The breaches in the stands had mostly been dealt with, allowing the soldiers there to refocus their fire back down onto the field.  All they had to do was hold out a little longer.</p><p>Brunnhilde’s throw had been amazingly accurate.  She hadn’t thrown Jarvis so that his head would intersect the arcing stone, but she’d come close enough for him to easily snag the stone out of the air.   He started to reseat it, then paused, unsure if he really wanted to reincorporate that unknown into his being.</p><p>The pause that thought generated was short lived; in truth there was no choice.  They needed him at full power, and for that he needed The Mind Stone.  He jammed it quickly into the socket in his forehead.  There was a moment of disequilibrium as the two halves of his being rejoined, before he was truly Vision once again.  Then he flew over to the battle with Thanos, activating the stone’s energy beam.</p><p>&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>A quartet of the largest Frost Giants moved to help Hulk/Banner.  For a moment the unfamiliar allies’ coordination fell apart.  Dwarf capitalized upon their confusion with a wide swipe that sent three of them flying.  The last was able to use the opening that created to spear him with a lance of ice.  The ice penetrated his thick skin making him bellow, just as Hulk/Banner stabbed him in the side with his weapon.</p><p>&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>Two of the Frost Giants sent on assisted flights landed in open space harmlessly.  The last was headed straight for Tony.  The tinkerer looked to left, then to the right, looking for anywhere he could go to avoid the incoming multi-ton projectile; there wasn’t any.  As pressed tight as their formation had become, he had nowhere to turn.  Without any other option he raised his energy pistol and fired, knowing all the while that it could not arrest the creature’s flight.</p><p>It did slow its trajectory, making it fall short of their formation.  It plowed into a formation of minions, crushing many of them, disabling all of them.  Then its momentum rolled it over.  Tony started to aim again, but another minion chose that moment to take a swipe at him.  He dodge-rolled under its strike, grimacing as broken ribs grated against raw nerves.  He managed to avoid that strike, but the roll did not get him completely out from under the tumbling giant.  It landed on the tinker and his attacker alike.  Thanos’s minion was crushed completely; Tony got off marginally better, his body being crushed from the stomach down.</p><p>Several more of Thanos’s ‘family’ charged through the hole its passage had created.  They stabbed the prone Frost Giant several times before trying to swarm the remaining defenders.</p><p>&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>“Boss!” Friday yelled.  The impact of that mass falling on Tony had knocked him out, but his eyes fluttered open at the AI’s call.  He tried to move, but quickly amended that action to a gasp in pain.</p><p>Friday was not the only entity on the battlefield to note Tony’s predicament by far.  “Mr. Stark!” Spiderman yelled, rushing to his mentor’s side.  He carved through the remaining minions with a speed that was terrifying, dropping to his knees next to him.  He looked up at Bucky, T’Challa, and Brunnhilde.</p><p>“Go,” he commanded.  “I’ll watch him.”  They looked at each other momentarily.  There was a part of each of them that resented being given orders by a kid.  None argued.  It was not a tone that brooked argument.  Instead, they nodded as one and sprinted towards the main event.</p><p>Tony lay back against the ground, looking up at the sky.  “I guess . . . I rolled the dice, one too many times,” he muttered quietly.</p><p>“Hang on, I’m coming boss,” Friday replied, already unlatching from Nebula.</p><p>“No,” Tony said quietly, yet forcefully.</p><p>“But Boss,” Friday objected, halting her uncasing.</p><p>“She needs you,” Tony explained quietly.  Friday paused far longer than any AI had a need to.  “Complete the mission,” Tony gasped.  With great effort he reached up to his earbud and switched it to the general channel.  “All of you,” he added.  “Finish the mission.”</p><p>“Yes Boss,” Friday replied, voice filled with concern for her maker.</p><p>“Mr. Stark, I . . .” Spiderman started before realizing he didn’t know what to say.  What could he say?  Sorry?</p><p>“It’s, okay kid,” Stark replied before breaking into a fit of coughing.  When he finished there was blood on the edge of his mouth.  “You were amazing.”  Peter didn’t know how to respond.</p><p>“Mr. Stark,” Peter said again, still at a loss for words.  He considered trying to move the giant’s bulk off of the tinkerer, but he was worried about doing more damage.</p><p>“Friday,” Tony said a moment later “when this is over, enact protocol 42.”</p><p>“Yes Boss,” Friday replied again, quieter than before.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Banner/Hulk saw the Frost Giant land on Tony and bellowed in rage.  And, for once, it was a mutual rage shared between both halves of their being.  Their volcanic rage was vented on the source of Tony’s grievous injury, one Black Dwarf.</p><p>They charged their larger foe.  Dwarf was caught off guard by the speed of their turnabout, and knocked down.  As he tried to get up, they caught his arm in an arm lock.  Then, standing on his side, they began to hack ferociously at the arm just below the shoulder with the glaive.</p><p>Dwarf bellowed in pain and struggled to get up, but could find no leverage.  He clawed and hammered at his attacker, ripping huge gashes in its green skin.  But the Banner/Hulk combo ignored it in favor of their own attack.</p><p>After half a dozen swings Dwarf found himself disarmed.  Freed of that particular lock, Dwarf tried to roll away.  But, the Banner/Hulk combo was on him again, straddling his body.  They flipped the blade into a reverse grip and began stabbing at Dwarf’s face over and over until the general stopped moving.</p><p>&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>Nebula had also seen the Frost Giant land on Tony.  She felt the suit begin to disengage itself from her, then felt it clunk back into place.  She heard Tony’s last orders.  She would not have begrudged Tony the suit, even as she agreed with his appraisal of the situation.</p><p>On some level she knew it was a sacrifice for the mission, for the galaxy.  But she couldn’t help feeling that it was yet another sacrifice for her, or perhaps the continuation of the original.  She compensated for the feeling of guilt by redoubling her attacks.</p><p>She managed to get Mjolnir through Thanos’s increasingly erratic defenses, rocking his head backwards with the blow.  As he staggered from that impact, she plucked the red gem from the gauntlet and tossed it to Wanda.</p><p>&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>Wanda reached out to catch the Aether, but it dissolved into a fluid like cloud that formed around her arm, traveling up to her body.  She gasped in fear as it melded itself with her body.  But it didn’t hurt, necessarily.  It was more like feeling a second presence within her, a presence of such power that it threatened to overwhelm her.  Her hovering became erratic as she fought against it.</p><p>&gt;&gt;</p><p> </p><p>Quill watched The Aether envelop the sorceress.  He could almost feel the struggle raging within her.  He knew firsthand how powerful Infinity Stones were, how strong their will to dominate a carrier was.</p><p>Under normal circumstances he’d have let someone closer to her, someone from her own team help her through it.  Vision would have been ideal.  Not only was he intimately acquainted with infinity stones, but she trusted him.  But he was busy.  Both halves of The Avengers’ leadership were out of the fight, one way or another.  Gamora was indisposed.  That left just him.</p><p>He flew over to her, halting within a few steps.  Thor had warned them of the Aether’s unpredictable defensive measures.  He had no desire to be impaled, or flung into a wall.</p><p>“Wanda,” he called out, letting himself fall with her.  At first, she didn’t seem to notice him, then she gave a quick sideways glance in his direction.</p><p>“Don’t fight it,” he told her earnestly.  “The stones respond to strong character.  Focus on your sense of self.”  She glanced his way before giving a curt nod.  She closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts inward, towards who she was and who she’d been.  She couldn’t say she was entirely happy with everything she found there, but for better or worse, it was who she was.  She owned it.</p><p>After what seemed like an eternity, she felt the Aether shift within her.  Suddenly it became less of a domineering force, more of a tool she could use.  Her fall arrested itself.  She opened her eyes to see Quill floating next to her, worrying over her.</p><p>“Thank you,” she said with a little nod.  Then red tendrils flashed from her down to attack Thanos.</p><p>Quill barely had time to feel good about himself before Nebula ripped the purple stone from the gauntlet.  She lobbed it in his direction without looking.</p><p>“Dammit!” he cursed, breaking off from Wanda to catch the stone.  He muttered under his breath about her recklessness as he closed with the instrument.  He would rather have been grounded when he caught the Infinity Stone; past experience showed it to be highly unlikely that he would be able to retain the presence of mind to land safely once he grabbed it.</p><p>In truth he didn’t know if the stone would destroy all life on a planet if it touched the surface bereft of any controlling influence.  He also couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t.  He had no choice but to hope his custom body armor would limit his fall damage.</p><p>He was beginning to entertain the idea of using the repulsor setting on the pistol to try and juggle the stone until he could land and catch it properly.  It was risky for several reasons.  For one, even the weapon’s lowest setting would impart significant kinetic energy on the target; he’d have to aim to launch the stone upwards, complicating catching it.  Two, he had no idea how the stone would react to that energy discharge.</p><p>He’d just scrapped that particular plan when a ring of fire opened between him and the stone.  He tried to twist around the portal to snag the stone, but it was too late.  Reflexively, he looked down at Thanos’s position trying to locate where the stone had gone.  But there was no portal there.  In fact, it seemed as though the Mad Titan was oblivious to the entire exchange.</p><p>“Look,” Strange said, from almost directly above him.  Quill instinctively looked up, raising his gun as he did so.  “Not up . . . down,” Strange replied, ignoring Quill’s reaction.  He pointed to a spot ten meters from Thanos.</p><p>Against his better judgement, Quill followed the finger to where not one, but two portals had appeared.  They were both angled upwards at thirty degrees, opposing each other.  As he watched the Power Stone emerged from one portal on an arc that landed it in the outer edge of the second.  It then reappeared from the first, but this time it didn’t make it quite as far; simple air drag was slowing it down.  Still, it would take a couple of minutes for the stone to lose enough momentum to fall short of the receiving ring.</p><p>Quill turned back to Strange, but the other only shook his head solemnly.  The look on his face conveyed great regret and embarrassment, but all he actual said was “Go.”  Quill nodded in return and wheeled around, charging for the portals.</p><p>Strange conjured a couple of shields and charged down to where Thanos was fighting the sisters.  The shields were purely a precautionary measure; he had no intent on going hand to hand with Thanos.  He simply wasn’t strong enough, or fast enough, to go toe to toe with him, even with help.  Not to mention the fact that his current state of martial skill would serve to do little more than get in his own allies’ way.  But that didn’t mean he couldn’t project any force into the conflict.</p><p>As Thanos readied a punch at Gamora a portal opened, engulfing his arm.  That same arm emerged from another portal behind him.  In effect, he punched himself in the back of the head.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>Quill keyed his comm unit with his empty hand as he streaked towards the juggling portals Strange had created.  “Guys I’m going to need your help with The Power Stone again,” he said.</p><p>“I’m a little busy right now,” Gamora replied tersely.  Which was a bit of an understatement.  In truth, she doubted she could successfully disengage herself from the fight.  The two sisters most definitely had a tiger by its tail.  And even if she could have, she wasn’t about to leave Nebula again.</p><p>“We are on our way,” T’Challa said.  Quill scanned the ground to find both Bucky and T’Challa charging for the same portals and shrugged.  He had to hope they would be enough.</p><p>Quill landed in a slide that left him under the receiving portal just as the stone vanished into it.  He ditched his gun, preparing to catch the stone like it was a baseball.  The receiving portal disappeared just as the stone exited the pitching portal.  He tracked its trajectory, adjusting his position a step or two to place himself directly under it.</p><p>He couldn’t help but wince in anticipation even as he reached his hands out to catch the stone.  The memory of the pain that beautiful looking gem had caused flashed through his head even as the stone entered his hand, but the recollection only made him grip it tighter.  The pain seared up his arm, just as before. </p><p>Just as before but different.  If anything, the intensity was less than he remembered.  He was unsure if that was due to his previous experience, or the awakening of something in his genes due to the events on Ego.  Not that the difference was enough to allow him to control it on his own.  He could still feel his body beginning to break apart, but he found he was able to resist it better.</p><p>A moment later Rocket, T’Challa, and Bucky made it to him.  T’Challa and Bucky each grabbed a shoulder, Rocket grabbed Quill’s empty hand.  For a moment they each jerked taut with the shared pain, but they quickly adapted to it, stabilizing each other just as the Guardians had done on Xandar.  Only this time, with far less effort or time spent.</p><p>Quill opened his hand, revealing The Power Stone.  The same purple fluidic lighting that had consumed Ronin leapt from his palm, spraying straight for Thanos.  Wanda changed tactics, creating red tendrils around Thanos’s feet that quickly snaked up wrapping themselves around his legs.  She could not immobilize his incredibly powerful limbs, but she was able to keep him from leaving the intersection of the three beams.</p><p>Thanos raised his other hand to block that stream, leaving himself open to both the sisters, and Vision.  He used his elbows as best he could to block their attacks.  It was a holding measure that could not last, a choice that virtually rooted him in place, unable to defend himself.  He lurched with the impacts he could no longer defend against.  He bellowed in rage at the pain caused by the yellow and red spectrum stones.</p><p>Vision focused his beam on Thanos’s neck, intent on beheading the instrument of Tony’s probable death.  The two sisters followed suit.  Gamora leapt into the air, aiming a slash at the back of Thanos’s neck, just above where his armor.  The blade bit deep into his neck just as Nebula delivered a massive hammer blow to Thanos’s face.</p><p>The head came clean off, flying away from Nebula’s blow.  The body disintegrated almost immediately, with all ending their attacks on it a moment later.  Wanda levitated The Power Stone and The Tesseract out of their wielder’s hands, holding them safely above the ground.</p><p>Nebula watched the head spin away in shock.  Despite her newfound friends, despite the emergence of her determination, despite her single-minded focus on the goal, she’d never really believed they’d kill him.  It was a goal that hadn’t seemed real, just worth fighting for.</p><p>She fell to her knees in awe of the site of that twirling head as the armor that had helped enable that victory abandoned her body.  Its constituent components arced across the field towards Tony’s failing body.  Nebula didn’t even notice, so transfixed was she by that sight.</p><p>Then she roared, her body angled slightly towards the flying head, bent arms held out at her sides, forearms level to the ground.  It was a stance that somehow combined the elements of victory and defeat together.</p><p>And the roar; none that heard it ever forgot it.  It was more than just victory.  It was more than just vengeance.  It was the stress brokered from years of abuse.  It was the defiance of the unbroken.  It was a lifetime of fear and unimaginable stress, all trying to escape through the insufficient gap created by her jaws.</p><p>It was also vengeance and victory.</p><p>It was a sound that would send lions into their caves.  It would send bears barreling through the brush in fear.  It would send bilge snipe back into the seas.  For one brief moment it was as if God himself were howling.</p><p>For one brief moment the entire battlefield turned to the source of that sound.  It interrupted Gamora’s own head-gazing.  It woke Tony from his pain induced sleep.  His eyebrows furrowed momentarily in confusion, then smoothed in understanding.  A smile began to form on his face just as the light went out of his eyes.  The spark was not quite gone when his face was covered by his suit, green glow of the healing protocols already active.</p><p>“Help me,” Parker called, grabbing one end of the giant laying over Tony’s body.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t lift that much weight; the body was just too big, and too limp, to do so without causing further damage.  Several of them rushed to help.  Thor retrieved his hammer and started to fly that direction.  Hulk bounded over.  Their efforts proved unnecessary as a moment later the body crackled in red energy and was lifted directly off of Tony.  The suit pieces that hadn’t been able to reach those portions of his body rushed to cover them.</p><p>The assembling crowd watched, holding their breath in hope that Tony could be saved, yet certain that the damage done to his body simply wasn’t repairable in time even with the advanced healing his suit provided.  For several moments there was only silent hope, counterpointed by Nebula’s roar.</p><p>“What’s protocol 42?” Natasha asked suddenly as Nebula’s roar ended abruptly.</p><p>“It is the gift he gave me,” Vision said quietly.  “Self-determination, the right to choose the course of one’s own life.”  They fell silent again at that.</p><p>Nebula roared until she nearly passed out.  Eventually she sucked in a breath of air.  That one act more than any other seemed to have exhausted her more than she would have imagined.  And yet, she felt better than she’d felt in far too long.</p><p>She got shakily to her feet with Gamora’s help.  The two of them started out for the crowd surrounding Tony.  They’d traversed most of that distance when Friday’s voice began speaking to her through her implant.</p><p>“I’m sending you this recording because I need your help,” Friday’s voice said.  “Tony’s injuries are beyond my ability to repair.  His body will die.  But I can save his mind with your help.”  The recorded voice paused for a moment, as if the AI had hesitated. </p><p>“I can record his neural electrical activity,” she continued “preserve his consciousness”.  “But there is not enough storage space for my program and Tony’s consciousness.  Once I enact these protocols, I will be overwritten.”</p><p>A schematic overlaid itself in Nebula’s vision.  “I need you to remove the suit’s memory core,” Friday continued as a spot on the back of the helmet began to pulse a different color.  “Take it to Tony’s workshop in The Avengers Facility.  Get Vision to help you; he’ll know what to do.  Don’t tell anyone else, in case this doesn’t work.”</p><p>Nebula nodded, despite knowing that the only reason she was hearing a recorded Friday was because the real Friday had already carried out her portion of this plan.  She was gone, and Nebula felt some sadness for that loss.  She also couldn’t help feeling a debt to Tony.  If Friday was willing to make this sacrifice for her maker then she certainly wouldn’t squander that.</p><p>“Thank you, Nebula,” Friday replied, despite being a recording.  No doubt the AI had known that Nebula would comply before she’d initiated her plan.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Disassembly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arlington Cemetery</p><p> </p><p>It was the biggest funeral in the history of the galaxy, for it was not being held just on Earth.  So many worlds had lost people to stop the threat of The Mad Titan.  So many more wished to honor those fallen heroes.</p><p>Not that it wasn’t the biggest funeral Earth itself had ever seen.  Every single nation had declared at least one day of remembrance in one form or another.  Murals and montages depicting the fallen had sprung up everywhere.</p><p>Choosing the particular day thereof had nearly started a riot on the UN floor until T’Challa had shamed the entirety of the United Nations in two short sentences.  In the end he’d been elected to pick the day.  In a move that shocked the world he’d chosen July 4<sup>th</sup>, stating that it represented a tradition of standing up to tyrants.  The fact that every fallen Avenger had hailed from America remained an unspoken, yet powerful, point in its favor.</p><p>The surviving Avengers and Guardians had all been invited to speak.  Even the leaders of the various military units that participated in the battle had been invited, those that survived.  Secretary Ross spoke about his own arrogance, and about how one’s arrogance can blind them to the contributions of others.  Peter Quill spoke about his love of his native planet, reaffirming his commitment to protect Earth and all worlds in the galaxy.  Others came forward to say their piece: Sam, Wanda, T’Challa, even Vision and a still recovering Nicholas J.  Fury.  Bucky, Banner, Strange, and Peter Parker seemed content staying on the sidelines.</p><p>Nebula also declined that invitation.  Gamora did not.  She spoke of cooperation, the need to help each other.  She spoke of her own life, how she’d thought she was alone, how it had been easier not to see the sacrifices another made for her.  She spoke of how those sacrifices had saved her, made her stronger.  As she spoke her eyes continually sought out Nebula in the crowd, making it clear -as if there was any doubt- who she was truly speaking of.</p><p>Others spoke: heads of state, diplomats, UN delegates.  They said little, and took far too long to say it.  They were the pomp and circumstance that always attached itself to such events, and they were given the attention they were worth: namely, none.  Eventually the funeral ended.  The caskets were moved and buried.  Many weren’t ready to leave.  Many more were preparing for the declared day of the celebration of life the next day.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>By nightfall the crowd had thinned considerably.  Most of the Avengers and Guardians were still there, clustered in little groups.  Many seemed to mill between the various groups that had formed.  Thor and Loki were two of the millers, mostly because Thor insisted on keeping an eye on his brother, partially to stop any vengeance others might consider.  As they worked their way through the crowd, they heard Gamora’s voice rise in response to something Nebula had said.</p><p>“Why not?” they heard Gamora ask plaintively.  “Is it Quill?”</p><p>“No,” Nebula said.  “It’s just that . . . I can’t . . . okay?”</p><p>“Is it me?” Gamora asked quietly.</p><p>“No,” Nebula said, perhaps only lying slightly.</p><p>“Then why not join us?” Gamora asked.  “You could help others with me.”</p><p>“Because I can’t!” Nebula snapped, turning to stalk off.  It was clear she wanted time to herself.  It was also plain that she would not get it.</p><p>“Nebula,” Gamora asked, following her sister.  Thor and Loki followed discreetly.  Loki cloaked them both in invisibility.</p><p>By that point Gamora had caught up to the Luphoid and grabbed her wrist, turning her around.  Nebula visibly suppressed the urge to attack.</p><p>Gamora paused for a moment, searching her sister’s face.  Searching her soul.  “Nebula, you are the strongest person I’ve ever known,” Gamora admitted quietly, earnestly.  “We could use your help.”</p><p>Nebula tried to glare at her sister, but found that she just couldn’t do it properly; there was no heart in it.  “Gamora,” Nebula said slowly, as if at a loss for words.  She wasn’t used to opening up about herself at all, would rather not.  But she knew Gamora wouldn’t let this rest in lieu of something. </p><p>“I used to be jealous of you, of how you turned your life around,” Nebula said at last.  “And I . . .” she stumbled before continuing “I don’t want you to think I have a problem with what you do.  It’s good.  But I just can’t.”</p><p>“But why not?” Gamora asked, somewhere between a whine and a demand.</p><p>Nebula sighed in resigned frustration, before looking directly at Gamora.  “Because my life has been spent in violence.  I have destroyed so much, hurt so many.  I just . . . I just want to live in peace.  Maybe build something.”</p><p>“In that case we have the perfect job for you,” Thor said, stepping into the conversation.  Loki decloaked them as they closed the last little bit of distance.  “As it turns out we have an entire realm to rebuild.”</p><p>“It promises to be interesting work,” Loki replied “if a bit tedious.”</p><p>“I’m certain,” Thor started before Loki cut in with a murmured ‘we’, “we, think we could certainly find something for someone with your abilities to do.”</p><p>Nebula looked between the two brothers faces.  Her instinct was to say no, to look for a trap in their offer.  Actually, her first instinct was to snap their necks for eavesdropping on her conversation.  Somehow, she held herself back.</p><p>And she did have to admit, it was the best offer she was likely to get.  And, the lack of history with either of them promised to avoid . . . entanglements. </p><p>She nodded slowly, before turning back to Gamora.  Gamora seemed to search her face for a moment, as if assuring herself that Nebula would truly be happier here.  There was hope in that gaze, that they could work together, maybe even help each other cope with the multitudes of unresolved issues they both still had.  But in the end, she nodded, hugging her sister.  Gamora was a bit slower to react than the last time they’d embraced.  She also didn’t immediately perceive it as a threat this time.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p> </p><p>The Avengers Facility</p><p> </p><p>“These are your pardons,” Ross stated passing out documents to the allied teams sitting around the table in the main briefing room of The Avengers complex.  “And these, are your galactic pardons,” he added, handing over small octagonal wafers that emitted a holographic ID card, one for each member.  “I never thought I’d say that,” Ross continued wryly, earning a few smiles.</p><p>“In addition, The Avengers organization is being restructured,” he continued.  “There will no long be a director.  Instead, my role is being scaled back to coordinator.  In other words, you tell me where you need to go, and I’ll work out the details with that country’s government.  In the event there isn’t enough time for official channels I will attempt to smooth things over.  I will still maintain an oversight position, but am limited to making recommendations to the UN.”  Many of them sat up a little straighter at that.</p><p>“This does leave you with a couple of decisions, however,” Ross continued.  “First, you will need to pick a new leader,” he said.  There was a pause, as if for a moment of silence for their fallen leaders.  “Secondly, and of even greater import,” he continued “the UN is unsure of how to proceed vis-a-vi the artifacts currently at hand.  While the delegates agree that they must be separated, that is all they seem able to agree to.  Complicating matters are the possibilities of property rights on other worlds.  They have designated you the experts in these matters and will proceed however you advise.”</p><p>“That’s novel,” Sam replied dryly, unconsciously stroking the medal on his chest.  As the only surviving members of the team to have ever been part of the American military, he and Barnes had been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.  It was the only time a man with a military warrant against him had been so honored.  Others had been awarded it posthumously.</p><p>“Consider it an acknowledgement of your extraordinary work that they were willing to pass the reigns even this once,” Ross replied in kind.  “You will need to pick a leader before you resume operations, but they would like a decision on the artifacts as soon as possible,” he added, snapping his briefcase shut.  With that he picked up his briefcase and exited.</p><p>For a moment there was only silence, as if he’d taken the air out of the room with him.  Thor was the first to break the silence.  “Your United Nations is correct,” he said.  “The stones and the gauntlet cannot be kept together.”</p><p>“So, which stone stays on Earth?” Natasha asked.</p><p>“The Tesseract belongs to Asgard,” Thor stated.</p><p>“Which is currently on Earth,” Strange pointed out.</p><p>“For the moment,” Thor replied, “but it will have to be relocated eventually.”</p><p>“Alright, but that still leaves The Mind Stone and The Time Stone,” Natasha replied.</p><p>“In point of fact, I’ve already recovered The Time Stone,” Strange replied, causing startled looks to be directed his way.  “It is essential to the protection of our Universe,” was all he’d say.</p><p>“Wait, are you saying the UN is guarding a fake?” Bucky asked.  Strange replied with a look that spoke volumes.</p><p>“So, you’re saying that Vision has to give up The Mind Stone?” Wanda asked, clearly preparing to leap to the construct’s defense.</p><p>“Keeping them together is too dangerous,” Brunnhilde reiterated.</p><p>“Sure, you say that after maintaining that you’ll keep The Tesseract,” Wanda snapped.</p><p>“There’s also the matter of The Aether which, if I’m not mistaken, belongs to Asgard,” Banner added.</p><p>“I’ll take the Aether,” Loki volunteered, one hand raised.</p><p>“I’m sure you would,” Brunnhilde replied warningly, not that any of the faces at that table seemed receptive to the idea of an Infinity Charged Loki running about.</p><p>Loki just shrugged her glare off.  “Worth a try I suppose,” he said good naturedly.</p><p>“The Aether can be hidden on one of the eight realms,” Thor replied.  “You have my word.”</p><p>“Just so long as we allow you to keep The Tesseract,” Sam replied pointedly.</p><p>“Do you suggest that we shouldn’t reclaim our property?” Brunnhilde asked darkly.</p><p>“No more than you seem to suggest Vision give up his.  Only his is a part of him,” Wanda insisted.  Brunnhilde jumped to her feet, chair crashing against the wall.  Thor followed suit, though whether to restrain or help her no one could be sure.</p><p>Before the situation could get out of hand Vision spoke.  “I believe the UN made the right choice when it passed us this task,” he said.  None present were sure if it was intended as sarcasm or not, but the entire room shut up.</p><p>“The Vision is correct,” Thor said before retrieving Brunnhilde’s chair.  He set it down in a manner unmistakable from an order.  She seemed to want to argue for a moment, then sat, still angry.</p><p>“Cooperative competition is the seed that grew the fruits of our victory,” Vision continued.  “It is the best of each of us working in concert that has left us with this choice.  I believe we should trust it.  If the Time Stone must remain on Earth, The Mind Stone must leave.  It is as simple as that.”</p><p>“You can’t,” Wanda pleaded.  “It would break you apart again.”</p><p>“I’m not entirely sure it’s necessary or wise either,” Natasha stated.  All eyes turned towards her.  “If we make it clear that we didn’t want two stones on one planet, and we publicly move Dr. Strange’s replica to another world, it would look like Earth only had The Mind Stone.  No one would even think of looking for The Time Stone here.”  She glanced around the table for the rest of the group’s reaction to her somewhat underhanded plan.</p><p>“It could work,” T’Challa stated.  “But knowledge of the true Time Stone’s location can never leave this room.”  Around the table heads nodded in agreement.</p><p>“Great, that just leaves The Power Stone and The Soul Stone,” Quill said.</p><p>“The Power Stone should go back to Xandar,” Gamora stated.</p><p>“Yeah because they did such a good job protecting it before,” Rocket muttered.</p><p>“They did until Thanos attacked them,” Gamora replied.  “More to the point, they won’t try to use it as a tool of conquest.”</p><p>“For now,” Rocket replied.</p><p>“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Quill replied placatingly.  Rocket harrumphed, but otherwise remained silent.</p><p>“Alright, that just leaves The Soul Stone,” Bucky stated.</p><p>“Why not give it back to Nebula?” Gamora asked, gaining startled looks from the rest of the table.</p><p>“I do not want it,” Nebula stated before anyone else could voice the disagreement on their faces.  It was true that they no longer saw her as a psychopath, but there is a large chasm between accepting someone isn’t insanely violent and trusting them with galactic WMD.</p><p>No one responded immediately.  The wind had been taken out of their arguments when Nebula beat them to it.  Finally, T’Challa spoke.</p><p>“Then you are the perfect person to retain it,” he stated laconically.</p><p>Nebula stared down the table at him.  “No,” she said forcefully.</p><p>“Why not just hide it?” Rocket asked.  “You did that once before.”</p><p>Nebula considered that for a moment, then nodded.</p><p>“Wait, you’re giving her an Infinity Stone, and not me?” Loki asked, trying to sound hurt and failing.  He was ignored.</p><p>“We still have to decide who gets the Gauntlet,” Sam added.</p><p>“No world that has a stone,” Gamora said forcefully.  “The temptation to complete the set would only be greater if we give someone a head start.”</p><p>“This is gonna sound a little crazy,” Quill started off, making everyone cringe “but I think we should give it to the Kree.”</p><p>“What?  Those space zealots?” Rocket demanded.</p><p>“Weren’t they one of the empires that came to our defense?” Sam asked.</p><p>“According to Stark’s logs they’re the only reason any of those ships got here in time,” Bucky answered.</p><p>“Yeah, because they’re crazy imperialists,” Rocket countered.  “How do you think they assembled their empire?”</p><p>“I suppose you have a better idea?” Quill asked.</p><p>“Yeah, give it to the Shi’ar Empire,” Rocket said.  They showed up too.</p><p>“I am Groot,” the finally recovered Groot stated.</p><p>“Groot’s right,” Quill replied.  “The Shi’ar are in the middle of a civil war.  Personally, I’m shocked any of them showed up, let alone that ships from both sides did.”</p><p>“Whose side are you on Groot?” Rocket demanded.</p><p>“Please,” Gamora cut in, “you just want to use that as a way to get at the royal family’s crown jewels.”</p><p>Rocket affected a hurt tone.  “What makes you say that?” he asked.</p><p>“Because you said you wanted to,” Gamora replied bluntly.</p><p>“Did I?” Rocket asked, thinking back.</p><p>“You even said you had a plan,” Quill affirmed.</p><p>“And you’re the one that said we should do something good and bad,” Rocket said pointedly.  “Seems to me that giving them a priceless relic while we steal their jewels is a fair price.”</p><p>“No!” Quill and Gamora shouted in unison.</p><p>“Okay,” Rocket continued unrepentantly “what about selling the gauntlet?”</p><p>“I would point out that the goal is to keep these things safe from anyone that might try to collect them all,” Vision pointed out.  “Selling one of the pieces for a no doubt exorbitant price, while certainly profitable, does not fulfil that one requirement.”</p><p>“Fine,” Rocket grumbled, crossing his arms.</p><p>“Does anyone else have any other alternatives?” Quill asked.</p><p>“We could give it to The Frost Giants,” Thor replied hesitantly.  This gained him aghast looks from both Brunnhilde and Loki.  “Without their help we would surely have failed.”</p><p>“Well, I am a Frost Giant,” Loki pointed out, raising one hand again.</p><p>“With respect,” Brunnhilde replied “I don’t trust them, him in particular.”</p><p>“Besides,” Rocket piled on “they haven’t been a serious force to be reckoned with since Asgard wrecked their faces and took their casket.  If we’re worrying about keeping it safe,” he added snidely.</p><p>“Which brings us back to the Kree,” Quill said.</p><p>“There are other empires out there, Peter,” Gamora stated.</p><p>“Yes, but they didn’t help stop Thanos,” Quill stated.  “Besides, this could be an important olive branch.”</p><p>“Why do you care?” Rocket asked.</p><p>“Because if we give Nova an Infinity Stone and nothing to the Kree it will increase tensions between them,” Quill stated.</p><p>“Again, so what?” Rocket demanded.</p><p>“Because another war between them would make space more dangerous for everyone, including us,” Gamora snapped.  “Quill’s right,” she added, turning to the table at large, “we should give it to The Kree.”</p><p>“And if we give something to the Kree and Nova, and don’t to the Shi’ar, how will that look?” Rocket said pointedly.</p><p>“Give them the fake Time Stone,” Natasha offered.</p><p>Gamora considered it before shaking her head.  “Won’t work,” she said.  “Their sorcerers would undoubtedly discover it to be a fraud.”</p><p>“Okay, then switch it,” Lang replied.  “Give these Shi’ar people the gauntlet and give the Kree the fake stone, but make them swear never to try and use it.”</p><p>The guardians considered that for a moment.  “Could work,” Gamora said.</p><p>“The Shi’ar are definitely too busy to try and assemble the gauntlet,” Quill added.  There were no complaints.</p><p>“Well that takes care of that,” Sam replied.  “Now we just have to figure out who the new face of The Avengers will be.”</p><p>“I would suggest that that debate will take far longer,” Vision replied.  “Perhaps it would be better to table it and write up our proposal to the UN first.”</p><p>“Fine, but could we break for food first?” Lang asked.</p><p>“Fine,” Bucky said, sounding slightly annoyed, as people slowly started getting up from the table.</p><p>“You know those thieves,” Sam replied as he followed suit.  “Always looking for that free lunch.”</p><p>“Hey, I’m a burglar, thank you,” Lang replied as he exited.</p><p>“Yeah well you better not burgle my cheeseburger,” Sam replied following.</p><p>“What is with you guys?” Rocket demanded as he followed Gamora and Quill out.   “It’s like you want me to be poor or something.”</p><p>“That talking rat seems fun,” Loki stated, watching them leave.</p><p>“Loki . . .” Thor said warningly.</p><p>“What, I can’t make a new friend?” Loki asked unrepentantly as they followed the others out.</p><p>&gt;&gt; </p><p>Norway</p><p>Future Site of New Asgard</p><p> </p><p>Quill watched Gamora say goodbye to Nebula one last time from the ramp of the modified Quinjet that would take them back up to the Statesman.  The sun was just setting on the open Norwegian meadows that would eventually turn into the temporary Asgard. </p><p>Already there was construction in the distance.  Those Asgardians were certainly industrious when they wanted to be.  It helped when the weakest of your adults could lift a metric ton.</p><p>The scene was quite idyllic, with the red and purple clouds counterpointed by the darker mountains in the background.  There was still just enough sunlight to glitter off of the ocean below them.  Quill was still gazing at the scene as Gamora walked up the ramp.</p><p>“So, she’s really staying?” Quill asked, sounding less than surprised.</p><p>“Yes, it’s what she needs right now,” Gamora replied softly.  Quill turned to look at Gamora.  She tried to hide it but he could see the pain in her eyes, the guilt.</p><p>“You saved each other, you know,” he said, earning a confused look from Gamora.  “She protected you when you were with Thanos,” Quill elaborated.  “She made it so you could break away, try to save a world.  And then, when she began to slip, when she started helping Ronin, you were there to turn her back.”</p><p>“It’s not the same,” Gamora said quietly.</p><p>“Maybe not,” Quill said “but it is something.”  Gamora considered that, nodding hesitantly in the end. </p><p>“You know, I never thought I’d say this,” Rocket piped up “but I’m a little sad she decided not to come with us.  I might even miss her a little,” he added.</p><p>“Me too,” Gamora said quietly “but if we need her, she’ll be there.  She always was,” she said as the ramp began to rise and the ship took off.</p><p> </p><p>
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      <em>THE END</em>
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</p><p> </p><p>P.C.S.</p><p> </p><p>The Avengers Facility</p><p>Nebula and Vision walked silently down the spotless white corridor towards the large doors at the end.  The hallway was a recent edition underneath the Avengers Facility.  It had been built to Vision’s specifications, with the use of robots. </p><p>No one even knew about it, except perhaps Parker.  Vision was all but certain the kid had managed to get past their security at least once since their return; it was like him anyway.</p><p>Nebula carried a memory core in her right hand.  As they reached the end of the corridor lasers scanned them, verifying their right to be there.  The doors opened revealing a large chamber.  Lights came on showing white furniture, much like the demonstration furniture Tony had used in his BARF reveal.</p><p>“The console over there,” Jarvis said, pointing to a computer console set against the wall.  Nebula walked over to it, found the port for the module she carried.  Figuring out the proper orientation wouldn’t have been difficult for a normal person.  For someone aided with her cybernetic enhancements it was child’s play.  She snapped the module into place.</p><p>A moment later the room was filled with holographic images overlaying every piece of furniture.</p><p>“Well, this is odd . . .” a familiar voice stated.</p>
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